


Every Judas Loved His Jesus

by Croik



Series: My Marchosias [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Character Death, Dubious Consent, Genderswap, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Loki, child endangerment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 129,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not a story of how Loki and Steve fall in love. This is Loki and Steve, abandoned in a world they didn't ask for, alone, with nothing to connect them to any thing or person on the planet except for the one thing they have in common: Loki's blood, a Jotun's blood, that once served as the basis for Dr. Erskine's miraculous super-soldier serum and protected Steve through seventy years of ice. This is Loki, hiding his weakness and uncertainty with every lie at his disposal, desperate for purpose, and Steve, just naive enough to fall for the smile of a beautiful woman. It's not love, but it's a lie worth fighting for, up until Loki ends up pregnant, devastates SHIELD headquarters, and makes off with the Tesseract, determined to make his child Midgard's new god. As the tentative captain of Earth's not-yet-mighty Avengers, Steve choses the side of humanity, without giving up hope that he can save Loki from himself and the too-powerful magic of Odin's lost treasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Since this was for The Avengers Big Bang Challenge on LiveJournal, I wrote the entire thing _before_ seeing the movie, so I had to invent a whole lot of details concerning how SHIELD operates, what the Tesseract is capable of, etc, which have been totally Jossed by the movie. BUT that's what AU is for. I hope you enjoy the fic! All comments welcome and appreciated. 
> 
> And be sure to check out [Made of Tin's amazing art](http://made-of-tin.livejournal.com/7666.html) done for the fic!

"Extraordinary," said Dr. Erskine, not for the first time, as he peered into his microscope. He wiped his palms on his lab coat and scrawled out a series of notes, whispering to himself, completely engrossed. His guest patiently waited. Almost ten minutes passed that way before Erskine remembered he was not alone, and he turned, a portrait of boyish enthusiasm. "I can hardly believe it, but it's just as you said."

Loki smiled and lit another candle. "What reason could I have to lie?" The tiny flame flickered wildly with every draft through the moldy window frames. "My only wish is to see you succeed, Doctor."

"You must tell me how you obtained this sample."

"Tell me first," said Loki, "how you obtained the previous one."

Erskine pursed his lips. "It wasn't I who obtained it," he said, watching closely as Loki paced along the walls, making certain that there were no spying ears nearby. "It was recovered from an archeological site in Norway. The tip of a spear, in fact."

Loki turned toward the window so that Erskine wouldn't see his amusement. "Ah, yes. I remember." Before Erskine could question, he went on. "You could say I obtained my sample in a similar fashion." He cast a quick glance to his palm, where not even a trace of his former wound remained.

"No; you couldn't have." Erskine turned back to his microscope for another long inspection. "This sample is fresh. There is no sign of cellular degradation, no contamination. This is blood came from a living person. A living..."

Loki glanced over his shoulder, and Erskine did the same--their eyes met and Erskine gulped. "My God," he murmured. "Schmidt was right, wasn't he? They _do_ exist."

"Hush, Doctor," said Loki. "You can never know who is listening."

Erskine nodded and took Loki's paranoia to heart, gazing quickly around the old cabin. "This changes everything," he said, and Loki could only smirk as Erskine's entire life seemed to flash before his eyes. "If Schmidt was right about...about that, he's right about everything. Even now he's out there and--"

"Hush," Loki said again. He returned to Erskine's side and put a stern hand on his shoulder. "You said you wish to go to America, no? Your British friends in the next room were very generous to help you escape Germany, but I suspect they will be much less inclined to convey you onward if they learn the full extent of your work. Keep it close to you."

"Of course." Erskine needed no more prodding to begin packing his equipment and precious sample away. He continued to cast glances in Loki's direction as he worked; doubtlessly he had arrived at the truth already, but he saw in Loki's face that further inquiries in that direction would be unwelcome. "Thank you, for this," he said instead. "Though to be honest, I'm uncertain if I, and the rest of the world, ought to be grateful for it. I cannot help but wonder at your motives."

Erskine snapped his cases shut and faced Loki with all seriousness. There was sweat on his upper lip, but his eyes were steady, like any number of mortals that had faced down a god without fully comprehending their own audacity. Loki was not impressed, but he was amused, and that was always enough of a motive for him.

"Your work presents me with a unique opportunity," Loki answered. "One I'm interested to see to its conclusion." He offered his hand, and with a deep breath Erskine accepted. "You must succeed, Dr. Erskine."

Erskine still looked suspicious, and rightly so, but he nodded and shook Loki's hand firmly. "I will." 

***

When the lights of the Bifrost faded, Loki was greeted on the other side by Heimdall and, unexpectedly, his brother. He had long since taught himself to feel the heavy eyes of Asgard's gatekeeper whenever they were upon him, but he had not yet devised a method of knowing when Thor was about. Still, he faced both men with a smile. "Brother. What timing you have; I've brought you something."

He hefted his trophy: the head of a stone spear, barely intact after centuries of wear. Though the swift and downward twist of Thor's lip indicated that he recognized it, Loki asked anyway, "Remember that time you said the mortals would be overcome with reverence for you?"

"That was--" Thor grunted when Loki shoved the ancient weapon into his possession. "You were supposed to be on Midgard searching for father's treasure, not...whatever this is meant to be."

"I _was_ searching," said Loki, and a heavy look from Heimdall urged him to elaborate. "But Midgard is vast, and its mortals know it better than I do. Since they are already on its trail all I need do is let them find it for me."

"It was _you_ who offered to recover the Tesseract," said Heimdall. "To repay your father for the damage done to his library."

"And once they've unearthed it, I will recover it with my own hands," Loki reasoned. "I simply don't have the time to chase it in person when Fandral expects me to replace his supply of Esrian tobacco."

"Also your own doing," Thor reminded him, though he couldn't help the twinkle of humor in his eyes. "You would not be so busy with these errands if you'd stop with your pranks in the first place."

"Then what amusement would there be for Asgard?" Loki took his brother's shoulder and steered him toward the exit. "Father has not missed his trinket in centuries--he won't care whether I dig it out of the earth myself. Now, come. Let's go show Sif your souvenir. I'm sure she'll get a hearty laugh out of reminiscing."

Thor groaned but allowed Loki to herd him, until they were halted by Heimdall clearing his throat. Loki managed not to wince as he and his brother glanced back.

"Loki," said Heimdall. "I will be watching for the outcome of your...latest trickery."

Loki grinned slowly. "Nothing would please me more."

***

Loki never felt more like a god than when he created his Adonis.

A few drops of Asgardian blood gave the humans the means to imitate gods. They squandered it at first, as was their habit, and for a time Loki lost interest in the flailing jester he refused to consider his progeny. By the time curiosity drew him back to Midgard, "Captain America" had made himself a soldier. Wishing that he had thought to personally provide the catalyst much earlier, Loki disguised himself amongst the ranks for closer inspection, and was not disappointed again.

He kissed Steve Rogers between the bookshelves. At the first touch of their lips he tasted the wellspring that surged and danced within its cage of mortal flesh. Steve Rogers was not a match for a full Asgardian with the gifts a million year lineage granted, but his strength was absolute, tangible even in his most tender actions, and he would only grow stronger. With every battle won, every conflict conquered, Dr. Erskine's dying gift would further mature and sustain its host.

And never before was there a host more worthy. Loki marveled that fate had offered him such a perfect subject without his guiding influence. Steve Rogers was determination itself. He was power, and wisdom, and beauty. He was more a god than those who sat on the throne of Asgard or ever would, and he was Loki's. Valhalla itself would not be worthy to house his indomitable spirit, so convinced Loki was of the great feats that awaited his creation.

His lips were sweet, but it was pride that made Loki giddy with pleasure long after Steve was called away.

***

"I'm going to tell your father what you've been doing," said Heimdall.

Loki hid his apprehension well, by his own estimation. "Father knows that I take these trips to Midgard," he said. "What does it matter how I amuse myself while I'm there?"

Heimdall freed his sword from the Bifrost, and its energies swiftly dissipated. "Lord Odin has laid down a number of laws regarding how you are allowed to interact with the mortals."

"As I'm aware." Loki ticked them off on his fingers. "I have not revealed my identity to anyone. I have not encouraged them to worship me. I have not sired any half-breed children. The only one who might have suspected what I am is dead. I haven't broken any of father's laws."

Heimdall stared at him for a long moment, no doubt trying to inspire further explanations from Loki that would trick him into revealing his deeper motives, but Loki was too aware of the tactic to fall for it. At long last he released a deep sigh. "I know you, Loki," he said. "You will reveal yourself to your pet sooner or later. And he will not thank you for it."

"Spying on someone is not the same as knowing them," Loki cautioned as he backed away. "Do not make the mistake of thinking that in seeing my actions, you see my mind."

"Advice I return to you, my prince."

Loki paused, and faced Heimdall with full sincerity. "Please don't tell my father," he said. "I haven't done anything that should displease him, but if you were to catch him in foul spirits, he would forbid me from going back. Once the human retrieves the Tesseract I'll take it from him and it will all be done--I'll let him be, and Midgard. I give you my word."

Heimdall's posture relaxed in what Loki perceived to be regret. "Your word means less and less these days."

"Please, Heimdall."

"Very well." Though clearly displeased, Heimdall motioned for him to leave. "I will hold my tongue a while longer."

Loki bowed graciously. "Thank you, Lord Heimdall." Thinking it best not to patronize Heimdall with further gratitude, he swiftly departed, and waited until the gatekeeper's eyes were off him to scowl.

***

Steve and his men celebrated the capture of their second Hydra base in a barn, at the edge of the country village their unit was using as a camp. The drinks were few and had to be shared--Steve took none for himself. By the end of the night he and his right-hand man were huddled in the corner, reminiscing jovially until only Steve was awake, Bucky Barnes on his shoulder. Loki waited until he looked just about ready to nod off himself to approach, disguised as a humble young soldier in a uniform some sizes too large for him.

"Captain." Loki offered a bottle of brandy with a few gulps left in it. "I saved you some."

Steve smiled. "You have it," he said. "I've had enough."

"It's too strong for me, sir," Loki lied. He dropped down next to Steve and gave the bottle an enticing shake. "I hate to see it go to waste."

Steve considered a moment longer, but when he leaned forward to claim the bottle, Bucky shifted against his side and grumbled as if about to wake. He quickly reclined again, and with a chuckle shared between them, Loki uncapped and passed the drink. Steve gulped it down with a wince and a hiss. "That _is_ strong," he laughed. "I hope you'll all be ready to move out in the morning."

"For you, we will," said Loki immediately, and the humble nod of approval he received for it made him smile. "We wouldn't have made it this far without you, Captain. Everyone knows it."

"We wouldn't be here if not for every one of us," he replied. "We're a unit, after all." He glanced down at the Sergeant snoring against his shoulder. "We're all important."

Loki wanted to scorn him, but the more he watched Steve relax into the hay, his precious Bucky beside him, the less he was tempted. There was such ease in the way Steve welcomed his friend to his side, with such blatant and unconditional affection. It gave Loki something far easier to hate. 

"Can I ask you something?" Loki found himself saying.

Steve handed the empty bottle back. "Of course."

"Is it true you used to be smaller than Sergeant Barnes?" He grinned sheepishly. "Some of the boys were saying you used to be as skinny as me, sir."

"Skinnier," Steve replied with no hesitation. "I was half this size before the SSR got its hands on me." His eyes thinned with lazy but sincere fondness. "Just keep at it, soldier."

Loki winced and almost broke character. "That must be strange for Sergeant Barnes," he went on. "To wake up one morning, and your littler brother's bigger than you. I bet he's jealous."

Steve was already shaking his head. "Naw, not Bucky. We've known each other since we were three feet tall. Everyone's pretty much the same size, then. It's no different now."

Loki leaned back. " _My_ brother would be jealous," he said, his voice eager and bitter at once. "He'd probably say he wouldn't be, either, but I know him well enough. He'd be _furious_." His gaze slid to Bucky. "Maybe you just don't know Barnes well enough."

The gravity of sleep lifted from Steve's face all at once. "What's your name, soldier?" he asked carefully. "I'm not sure I've seen your face before."

Loki smirked, and just when it looked like Steve was going to rouse Bucky and the rest he placed his hand to Steve's chest. It took only a simple spell to render him gently unconscious. "Go to sleep, Captain," he said, tucking the empty bottle into Steve's grip. "You have a busy day tomorrow."

***

Loki was in Thor's chamber, putting his magic to the task of repairing an unsightly scratch in Thor's armor--which he was _not_ the cause of for once--when the guard interrupted: "Lord Heimdall summons you, Prince Loki."

Loki's stomach churned, made worse by Thor's insisted presence, as he rode down the rainbowed path. As soon as they dismounted Heimdall greeted them at the entrance to his station, his face grim and weary. "I warned you," he told Loki severely. "I said it would not end well."

Loki went slack. He knew what Heimdall had to tell him, and felt in his chest the slow, cold pressure of disappointment he was so familiar with already. "Open the Bifrost," he ordered. "Send me to him."

"It's too late for even your magic."

"This one last time," Loki persisted, and when Heimdall did not look moved, he added, "Thor will accompany me. He'll make certain I do no mischief."

Thor shrugged. "Let us go, Heimdall. You know if you don't he'll find a way to get there himself and we'll all be the worse for it."

Heimdall moved to his pedestal and readied his sword. "I will give you some time," he said. "But this is the last time I open the path to Midgard for you, Loki, unless your father strictly commands it. As you promised, it is done."

Loki stepped into position. "What of the Tesseract?"

"Gone. Fallen to the depths of Midgard's oceans." Heimdall lodged his sword in place, and all around them streaks of light flashed on and off. "You will have to find some other way to reconcile with Odin."

The bridge opened for them, and when they landed it was on frozen tundra. Ice rather than earth shifted and creaked beneath their boots, and stretching out of it, like a corpse's desperate, seeking hand, stood an enormous blade of dark metal. The brothers investigated, cautious of the delicate footholds, until Thor discovered indentations that marked an entrance. A few solid cracks of Mjolnir breeched the hull, but when Loki tried to climb inside, Thor held him back.

"It's flooded," he said, motioning toward the sub-freezing water creeping up the interior of the craft. "Be careful."

Loki slipped free and entered anyway. His cheeks and fingers ached with cold as he crawled through the twisted debris, closer to the edge of the encroaching ocean. Most of the craft lay underwater, broken and empty, and already ice was forming in every crack. He could see only a distant glimpse of the fore, and a shadow in the water that swamped it, silent and motionless.

Loki crept as close as he could, but then the wreckage squealed in complaint, its nose turning deeper into the murky ice. A loss of balance put his foot in the water and immediately set his toes tingling. He jerked back just in time for Thor to steady him.

"Is that him?" Thor asked, pointing with Mjolnir toward the drowned figure.

Loki allowed his brother to bear some of his weight. "Yes. It must be."

Thor sighed, shaking his head. "Well," he said. "I hate to say it, but I win again, don't I?"

Loki's jaw clenched. "What do you mean?"

"My pawn beat yours. Wasn't that the point of this little experiment? To pit a mortal, strengthened by your blood, against one strengthened by mine?" He gave Loki a clap on the back, just gentle enough for it to be pity. "I may not be as clever as you, brother, but I'm not a fool."

The craft rocked again, and its descent quickened. The brothers climbed swiftly out of it and were forced to retreat several meters before they could be safe of the buckling ice. As they stood close together, their breath in the air, Loki turned his gaze to the seemingly endless landscape of white all around them. There wasn't another human for legions in any direction, no sign of plane or ship in pursuit. His champion would never be found.

"What will you tell father?" Loki asked, the wind cutting his lips.

"Whatever you want me to tell him," said Thor. "That you dawdled amidst the mortals and lost your chance at the Tesseract? That you searched in earnest and were unsuccessful? Either way does not reflect favorably, but it's better than him knowing the truth."

Loki tried not to look at him, but when he did, he found the sympathy fixed on him to be unbearable. He wanted to tell Thor to say the truth or nothing at all, but he had no desire to see that same, amused pity from his father's eyes. "I'll tell him I wasted my time here," he said. "It's true enough."

Thor threw his arm around Loki's shoulders. "When you finish with my armor, I'll treat you to some ale," he offered. "Hogun and Fandral were out seeking game earlier--we'll see if they caught anything, eh? Worry about Father in the morning."

He called for Heimdall to retrieve them, and as the luminescence of the Bifrost surrounded them Loki glanced once more to the sinking wreckage. His eyes narrowed in bitterness. "Better you had stayed the dancing monkey," he said under his breath, and in a flash they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

When hurtling through the void of space, the fall and the sudden stop are the same thing.

Every moment was agony. Gravity pulled at Loki from all angles, until he felt as if his skin had been drawn from his bones and ice crammed into every open space and pore. The breath was ripped from his lungs and his eyes bulged and burned in their sockets. He crashed against the seams of the universe without ever halting his mad descent. It wasn't anything like gliding down the waves of the Bifrost. It wasn't slipping through the cracks between the worlds. It was chaotic and terrifying, and it stole from Loki every rational and erratic thought, until desperation blocked out all other sensations, even hope. Even guilt.

He didn't know how long it took. Hours, days, weeks, or longer. He twisted and tumbled and reached, until a spark flashed at the furthest edge of his perception. Panic made way for instinct and he latched on with all the meager strength he had left. It was magic and it was familiar, so he staked all his faith on it. He passed through the eye of the cosmos and fell through the other side, into solid air--and then into glass, and metal, and at last, nothing at all.

***

"Did you call her? Is she on her way?"

"Yes--yes, I told you already."

"We shouldn't be doing this until she gets here..."

Loki shuddered, and all around him creatures flinched back in alarm. They weren't threats so he ignored them in favor of the pain throbbing all through him. His skin felt too tight, breaking in any place he moved too much. There was air in his lungs but it tasted like blood. Distantly he was aware that he had used too much of his magic righting his course through the cosmos--it would take time, and strength he didn't have, to repair his injuries.

"Oh God, he's alive. We have to call--"

"No! No cops. Just...get him out of there."

Metal scraped against metal and glass crackled. Loki forced his eyes open but his vision was no more than a gray smear. He was still trying to locate the source of the worst of his pain when hands fell over him, and with a gasp he cast them off.

"Don't touch me!" His bones felt only loosely connected but he forced them to obey, clamoring to his feet. His stability didn't last. Something twisted in his knee and he managed only a few steps before colliding with a cold stone wall. The impact shoved something sharp that was already embedded in his abdomen to slide deeper, and he gagged, pawing at it.

"Wait--stop." It was a woman's voice emptying out of a blur of white and red. "You'll just--"

"Get it out," Loki heaved, cutting his fingers on what felt like glass lodged below his ribs. "Get this out of me!"

He yanked on the shard, and though several voices fearfully objected, one pair of hands closed over his and helped him pull it free. Blood poured from the wound and Loki doubled over, coming close to vomiting. Someone tried to staunch the flow, but when he squeezed his eyes shut and finally concentrated, the flesh began to stitch together. When men and women crowded closer, he impatiently waved them off.

"Don't touch me," Loki wheezed, groping over his body and dislodging shards and splinters where he found them. His magic had not yet replenished enough that he could heal them all, but with the worst at least sealed he managed to reclaim some composure. He scraped the back of his palm over his eyes and tried again to view the room.

"Where am I?" Loki could make out only hazy shapes amidst gleaming, artificial lights. There was a smell of burning and electricity, and the familiarity put him on edge. "What are you--where is this?" he cried.

"Callicoon," said someone, and was instantly hissed quiet by her peers.

"We're not going to hurt you," said a man. "Just calm down."

"Where am I?" Loki demanded again. It was too warm to be Jotunnheim. Too cold to be Muspelheim. "What realm is this?"

A confused murmur spread among them, which was answer enough for Loki. His balanced failed him and he dropped to his knees. His mind reeled, and just when he thought he might succumb again to unconsciousness, a new voice cut above the rest.

"This is Midgard."

Loki sighed. "At least one of you knows its proper name," he grumbled.

"You're a long way from home, Asgardian."

Loki stiffened, and watched guardedly as a woman crouched down in front of him. She was strongly built for a human female, dressed in the same white coat as her peers, her hair shaved close to her head. "That's what you are, aren't you?" she said, her voice soft with appropriate reverence. "You're from Asgard."

He licked blood off his lips. "Who are you?"

She bowed her head. "My name is Johanna Schmidt," she said.

"Schmidt," Loki repeated. The name shuddered down his spine with a cold not unlike the emptiness of infinity. He stared blearily around the space that was finally growing clear to him: the monitors and electronics and crude, human attempts at power. Scientists. "Of Johan Schmidt's line?" She nodded, and he nearly gagged again. "You're of HYDRA."

"I'm honored you know us by that name," the woman said.

Her subservience, though obvious and correct, only made Loki squirm in his skin. He sagged into the wall at his back with a bitter chuckle. Having been cast out of Asgard, having survived the ravages of Yggdrasil's embrace, he had landed here, in the realm of mortal wretches. And of all the scurrying ants to have cradled his fall he had found himself in the arms of the only ones he had reason to know, to hate, to blame for having lost a treasured pet. He had fled the wrath of his brother only to fling himself into the maggots glutted on his brother's blood.

Fate had never played so clever a trick on one so well-versed in the art, and as the mortals watched in confusion and fear, he laughed himself sick.

***

For the next three hours after awakening in New York, Steve Rogers operated more or less on autopilot. He allowed the men in black suits to take him back to their lab, where he was given a complete physical. It was a bit more involved than he remembered. They took samples of his blood, sweat, and bone marrow. They measured, weighed, and photographed almost every inch of him. They took his pulse and temperature, and for a few minutes, they claimed to be monitoring his brain waves. Director Fury came and went in between the procedures but he didn't have much to offer in the way of information. Steve wasn't interested in how they had found the wreckage of the bomber or how expensive it had been to salvage it. 

"I know this must be overwhelming," said Fury with a semi-sardonic tone that reminded him too much of Col. Phillips. "But do you have any questions so far?"

Steve glanced from the nurse collecting his fingernail clippings to the mess of wires that stood atop his head not unlike an over-loaded electrical outlet on Christmas. His lips quirked. "Did we at least win the war?"

Fury raised an eyebrow. "I'm not speaking German, am I?"

Once the lab was convinced that Steve was in good shape for having risen from the dead, they released him to Director Fury, and they left the city together in a helicopter. "You've been legally dead for over half a century," Fury said over the thud of the blades. "You don't own any property, you don't have any money. I'm sure the army owes you some back pay, but I wouldn't hold my breath. Officially, you're still dead. You don't exist."

Steve stared out the window, watching the scenery trickle past. If he was supposed to be feeling something, it wasn't working. He kept thinking that at any moment he would open his eyes to miles of freezing ocean. "So where are we going?" he asked without looking back.

"Someplace I can keep my eye on you, until we figure out what comes next."

They landed at a military base, a dour, gray installation even in full sunlight. A group of buildings each several stories tall squatted together on the water's edge, all sharp metal edges and too many windows. People in dark suits bustled about, hurried but not urgent, casting only the briefest interest on the helicopter. Even when they disembarked there was only one man waiting to greet them. It wasn't exactly the hero's welcome Steve could have hoped for.

Steve's apprehension was calmed at least somewhat when the man snapped into a military salute, and instinctually he did the same. "Captain Rogers," he greeted crisply. "Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D Central."

"Thank you, sir," Steve replied automatically.

Fury glanced between them with amusement. "Captain, this is Agent Phil Coulson." He waved a hand. "At ease, already."

"Captain," said Coulson, extending his hand. Steve took it and received a sturdy handshake. "It's an honor to meet you. I've been a fan of your work for a long time."

"Thank you, sir." His choice of address made Coulson nearly beam with approval.

"Agent Coulson's volunteered to show you around the base," said Fury. "This will be your home for the time being, so get cozy." He shook Steve's hand again, though there was nowhere near the same sincerity in his gesture as in Coulson's. "I'll be in touch."

Steve wasn't sure if thanks were in order, but Fury didn't give him a chance to offer any, so it was just as well. At least Coulson was much more agreeable. Though his smile was reserved there was a lightness in his manner that reminded Steve of the young boys that were his most stalwart fans in his time as mascot. He led Steve into one of the buildings, through an immaculate lobby and up to the fourth floor.

"We've arranged a room for you," Coulson explained, sliding a card into the "keyhole" of room 404. "Most of the civilian staff has residences off site, but our agents come and go, so it's more convenient for them to stay on the base when they're needed." He opened the door to a modest but well-made apartment, with a small sitting area, desk and chair, kitchenette. Adjoining bedroom and bathroom. "It's not much," he continued, apologetic, as Steve wandered the few paces between each room. "Once it's been decided if you'll be staying with us, we can arrange for you to have one of the penthouses on the upper floor, or somewhere off site, if you want."

"When it's been decided," Steve repeated. He paused at the window, which overlooked the lively courtyard. "Who decides that?"

Coulson started to answer but paused, thinking better of it. "I'm sorry, Captain. But to be honest, that's above my clearance, if you know what I mean."

Steve sighed. "I know what you mean."

Coulson switched the subject. "This is your key card," he said, handing Steve the card he had used getting into the room. "Keep it with you at all times--it's the only way you can get around the base. You're at level 2 clearance now, which will let you into most places in this building, including the laundry, the cafeteria, and the gym on the third floor."

Steve turned away from the window with renewed interest. "Gym?"

The gym wasn't empty when they arrived. A man and a woman were at the center of a matted area, dressed for training and involved in some kind of wrestling spar. Steve only caught the last few moments of the match: the woman, in movements almost too fast for even him to have guarded against, twisted her legs around her opponent's arm and shoulders and yanked him to the mats with an impressive thud.

"Okay okay okay!" the man yelped. "Uncle, for God's sake."

The woman flashed a smile. It was only an instant, mostly hidden by the dance of her scarlet hair, breathless and almost delicate and not meant for anyone to see. Steve saw it. As soon as she realized that she was being watched she released her partner and gracefully stood. Her close-fitting top and bare midriff were far from standard issue but Steve did his best not to take too much notice.

"Agent Barton," Coulson greeted with a hint of a smirk. "Enjoying your time off?"

The man on the floor didn't make any attempt to get up until Coulson offered his hand. "Doesn't it look like it?"

"This is Agents Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff," said Coulson. "Two of our top operatives." Handshakes were shared all around. "And this is Captain Steve Rogers. A...special guest of Director Fury's. I want you two to make him feel welcome while you're around."

"Yeah, sure," said Clint flippantly, but Natasha held Steve's gaze with clear interest.

"Captain Rogers. I read your file." She looked him up and down, which alerted Clint back into the conversation. "I look forward to seeing what you think you can do for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I'm not sure yet that I'll be doing anything for S.H.I.E.L.D.," Steve replied truthfully. His eyes were drawn to the well-trained curve of her biceps. "In fact, I'm still not entirely sure what all this is."

"We solve the problems that other people can't solve," said Natasha. She cocked her head to the side. "From what I understand, you used to be pretty good at that."

Steve smiled without humor. "For my time, I guess."

Clint glanced between them. "Um...okay. I guess I should have read up for this."

"Will you please brief agent Barton on the situation?" Coulson asked of Natasha. "If you'll excuse us."

"Pleasure meeting you," Steve said as Coulson herded him out of the gym. The two agents nodded and then turned to each other, talking in hushed tones.

It wasn't until they reached the cafeteria that Steve realized he hadn't actually eaten anything since waking up that afternoon. His stomach felt both tight and hollow as he watched the sparse collection of workers milling about, lazily chatting. Coulson was just suggesting they sit down for a late lunch when something in his pocket buzzed, and he answered what could have only been a phone.

"Coulson. What, already?" He frowned sharply and checked his watch. "I told him not until five." He sighed. "All right; I'm on my way." He hung up and looked guiltily to Steve. "I'm sorry, but there's something that needs my attention. But help yourself to whatever you like, and give your card to the cashier at the end. Everything's on us." He gave Steve's hand another enthusiastic shake. "I'll come back for you--it shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

"Thank you." Steve watched him go, and stood indecisively for a minute, still watching the flow of strangers. Part of him wanted to just go back to the room, fall into bed and sleep, maybe for another seventy years. It was his stomach deciding that hunger outweighed awkwardness which propelled him into line. He filled his tray with several cheeseburgers, fries, a fully loaded salad, two bananas, milk, and orange juice. The cashier raised her eyebrows and glanced behind him as if expecting to spot a guest, then ran his card through her machine.

" _Bon appétit_ ," she said.

Steve stood overlooking the room. There were almost a dozen men and women spread out amongst the tables, some in black uniforms, others in suits and blouses. Several of the groups had open seats but none looked particularly inviting. Steve fidgeted, daunted by the idea of simply approaching and introducing himself. As many times as his situation had been explained to him, he had no idea how to go about describing it to someone else.

Before he could make up his mind to find an empty table, he realized that he wasn't alone; a woman with a tray of her own was standing next to him, surveying the room with the same half-eager, mostly unsure look he was. Skinny, brunette, with her hair pushed back by a headband, dressed in a striped button-down shirt and slacks, she didn't look any different from the rest of the diners but still managed to appear out of place. When she noticed him next to her, she blushed and smiled.

"It's kind of like high school all over again, huh?" she said.

Steve smiled back. "Yeah." There was nothing to do but offer, "Want to sit together?"

"Sure," she piped and then, realizing her over-eagerness, blushed darker. "I mean, I'm new here." She led them to an empty table and sat down. "There's only one or two people here I know, but I'd rather not eat alone. Too many flashbacks from eighth grade."

"I know the feeling." Steve sat opposite her and felt a flash of embarrassment--it actually might have been eighth grade when he last ate with a girl. It seemed like more than a lifetime ago. "I'm new, too," he said, trying to at least fake normalcy. "Steve Rogers."

"Jane Foster." She shook his hand, and he noticed her stare at, then try not to look like she was staring at his mountain of a meal. "Do they have all you agents on three thousand calorie diets?" she teased.

Steve chuckled. "I couldn't help it. I haven't had an American cheeseburger in..." He managed not to wince. "A long time."

He bit into one. It wasn't quite like coming home--the meat was tough and the greens wilted--but the tangy beef, the melty cheese, even the crisp of dill pickles invigorated him. He was starving, and he suddenly wished he had chosen to eat alone, so that his companion wouldn't have to watch him devour his meal.

"Wow. I can see that." Jane giggled and dug into her own dinner at a more moderate pace. "Were you deployed? Oh, right." She rolled her eyes. "You probably can't talk about that, huh. We're all _secret agents_ now or something."

Steve washed down his first cheeseburger with the milk. "Actually, I guess right now I'm back to being a civilian," he said. He gave a helpless shrug. "It's a long story."

"Yeah...mine too." She sighed. "And classified, unfortunately. I wish these people would understand that scientists need to actually _communicate_ with each other to make advancements. You can't revolutionize in a bubble."

Steve straightened. "You're a military scientist?"

"Well," said Jane. "Sort of." She pushed her salad around her plate, organizing the almonds and cranberries into what seemed like an intentional arrangement. "I _am_ a scientist--an astrophysicist, actually. It's the military part that's not certain yet. They invited me to do my research here, but for now I'm just checking it out. I'm not sure if I'm going to stay on permanently."

"Why wouldn't you?" asked Steve, moving on to the fries.

Jane tried to answer several times before she got it right. "It's just all so sudden," she said. "Two weeks ago I was roaming the desert in a van, and now I'm back east, right where I said I didn't want to be, surrounded by all these men-in-black with their secrecy and code names and what have you. It's just..." She dropped her chin into her palm. "I don't know. It's an amazing opportunity, it really is. I guess I just never thought that the United States military would have a need for someone like _me_."

Steve stared past her, his smile faint. "Yeah. I know just how you feel."

***

Midgardian food was bitter, textureless filth, but Loki ate it. He gulped down the meager offerings of too-soft bread and dull meat and sour fruits. Even the water was heavy and unpleasant on his tongue, but he was still weak, too weak to defend himself from even the poorest of Asgard's sentries, if any happened to come looking. It was a foolish worry and an even more foolish hope. Not even the eyes of Heimdall were on him now.

Johanna, sat across from him, and it was through her that all gifts of food and drink were made. Her peers knew to keep their distance. "HYDRA has had knowledge of Asgard and its people for decades now," she said as she poured wine into his cup. "Ever since their DNA was discovered at the ruins outside _Tonsberg_. But we've had only Earth's legends to depend on for details. We know almost nothing about the true nature of Asgard and its people."

Loki tasted the wine--it was disgusting, but he drank it anyway. "You are better off that way," he said bitterly.

"I've waited my whole life to meet you," she persisted. "Won't you tell us anything?"

He considered a lie and realized it didn't matter. "You know me as Loki." An excited murmur spread among the scientists gathered near the room's exit. Their enthusiasm was very little comfort to him. 

"Loki," Johanna repeated reverently. "Can I ask why you've come?"

A lie suddenly mattered very much. Loki took his time, until he was running out of pale nutrients to consume. The memory was still very close to his surface, seething like an open wound. "I sensed something," he recalled. "Magic I was familiar with." He finished his wine and when Johanna started to offer more, he waved her off. "But I must have been mistaken. You humans aren't capable of that kind of magic."

Johanna considered for a moment and then stood. "If you'll come with me, I think I can show you what it was you felt."

She led him back to the room he had first awoken in. It was a laboratory of some sort, lined with all manner of peculiar human machines, and at the center a wreckage of broken metal. A harsh landing for a weary god. HYDRA's men and women were moving about the debris, trying to sort through what was unsalvageable versus recognizable. Hard afternoon sunlight beat down from a ragged hole in the ceiling.

"We were testing our new reactor," said Johanna, stepping carefully over the strewn wires, plates, and shards of glass. Loki's blood smeared under her boot. "Built from the ground up using plans stolen from Stark Industries. They call it an arc reactor."

Loki moved past her. The workers gave him a wide berth but he paid them no notice, instead crouching down among the shattered glass. When he touched his fingertips to the pieces he could still feel the lingering heat. But more than that, he sensed it once again--a hint of ancient magic that made no sense in a mortal lab. Frowning, he stepped into the center of the room and looked up through the open roof.

"It's still here," he murmured. He turned in a circle and imagined the energies he had sensed flying loose, twirling around him. He looked to Johanna. "It's not possible for mortals to create energy like this."

Johanna knew better than to let pride show in her face. "Everything in this lab was made by my people, if not myself," she said.

"You must have had help." When an answer occurred to Loki he marched out of the debris. "This power--it came from the Tesseract, didn't it?" He snatched her by the arm. "You still have it?"

"No," said Johanna, leaning back. "I'm sorry, we don't. Not for seventy years." Her eyes widened. "But let me show you something else."

HYDRA's scientists tailed from a distance as Johanna took Loki out of the building, into a smaller one guarded by heavy doors and an iron padlock. Inside was a storeroom lined with shelves and racks bearing various weapons: guns and rifles, mostly. Loki glanced over them with disinterest until he realized that he recognized some. He ran his fingers over the muzzles; he could no longer feel their heat, but there were imprints within that he could sense.

"These are the weapons HYDRA used in the war," said Loki as he moved down the short hall. "Powered by the magic siphoned from Father's Tesseract."

"We've kept them all this time," Johanna confirmed. "But their power ran out ages ago. They're useless to us until we can find a suitable energy source. That's why we've spent the last several years trying to perfect the arc reactor."

"You are trying to mimic the power of the Tesseract."

"Yes."

Loki's fingers danced over the shelves. Some of the weapons had been fired more than others, he could tell. Some had deeper traces of the Tesseract's unique energy within them. It had been centuries since he had been in its presence but he remembered its impossible light, its pulsing radiance. He remembered the burns on his fingertips. And he laughed. The humans flinched back and he laughed at them.

"You poor, little fools," he scorned. "Do you not understand? The Tesseract cannot be imitated. Its power is ancient--limitless. You can make energy that smells like it, perhaps, but you will never mime even a fracture of its greatness." His hand closed over the grip of the rifle nearest him. "You understand nothing of power."

Loki yanked the weapon from its holds, and the humans retreated in fear--even the stone-faced Johanna backed out of the storeroom with cold panic in her eyes. He stalked past them, into the muddy clearing between the buildings of their pathetic compound. Tall deciduous trees loomed about the perimeter, and from them Loki picked the broadest trunk. His weapon was bulky, crude, and ugly, but he hefted it to his shoulder and curled his finger over the trigger.

He squeezed. His magic was run raw but it was that weary desperation that fueled the weapon with best effectiveness. To the shock of his onlookers a stream of blue-white energy issued from the muzzle and crashed into the targeted tree, rippling up and down its foundations, from the tips of its branches to the deepest roots. Ice crippled it, and within seconds the bark was crackling off in sheets, until the entire tree collapsed beneath its own weight and shattered across the earth with an earsplitting thunder.

Loki offered the gun to Johanna, who accepted with a tremble in her hands. She looked between Loki and the gleaming hill of debris with almost accusatory shock. "These weapons were used up a long time ago," she tried to say again.

"Your predecessor designed these weapons to be powered by raw energy," Loki told her impatiently. "You mortals might think that different from magic, but it is all the same. Only the form differs." His head swam from the over-expenditure of his own power, and he faked a pain in his injured side so that he would have an excuse to lean back against the storeroom wall. "You waste your time changing energy from one form to another--it's quantity that you lack. Only the Tesseract itself will give you enough power to fuel these weapons so that they'll be of any use to you. 

Johanna stared down at the rifle with a sudden gleam of understanding that Loki easily interpreted. His heart beat a little faster. "Do you know where it is?" he demanded.

"Not exactly." Johanna handed the rifle to one of her men, who spirited it back into the storeroom. "We know that it was recovered by Howard Stark after Herr Schmidt lost it. He used it to conceptualize the first arc reactor. But the government has it now. One of their research facilities must have it but we don't know which one."

Loki tensed and pushed away from the wall. "Tell me everything."

Back inside the main structure, Loki shed his tattered and bloodied clothing. Without the strength to heal his remaining injuries himself, he allowed, for the time being, a human physician to clean and apply salve to his many cuts and bruises. The human wine was still repulsive but it dulled his senses well enough.

"After the war, HYDRA was scattered," Johanna continued to explain. "As many weapons were guarded and stockpiled as was possible. But with the loss of Dr. Zola, and the cube itself, what remained of the army was crippled. It took decades for the survivors to band together. They tried to continue their research but it was difficult to find funding and security. By the time I became an officer there was only one option left."

Loki eyed the human garments being offered him with skepticism, but ultimately accepted. "You migrated to this province," he surmised as he fastened the tiny white buttons over his chest.

"An arms dealer here in the States offered to fund our research, if we promised to share our findings and sell some of the weapons we'd accumulated. I agreed." Her tone took a bitter turn. "But like I said, without the Tesseract our weapons were useless, and our scientists were no match for Stark. About half a year ago--when the Iron Man appeared--we were ejected from our facility and forced to leave most of our equipment behind. That's why we're forced to hide out here in the middle of nowhere to conduct our tests."

"Stark," Loki mused. Once fully dressed he resembled the humans almost too much, but there was nothing to be done about it. "He achieved more than I expected of him. And so, what will you do, Johanna Schmidt?" He pulled the remaining wine back to him and sat down. "I expect your HYDRA ideals have not wavered even after all this time."

"Of course not," she said immediately. She leaned against her elbows. "Now, more than ever, Johan Schmidt's objectives must be carried out. You've seen the state of this world. The way governments fight petty battle after battle, never willing to take the final steps. If only someone--"

"Yes, yes," Loki interrupted. He poured himself a fresh glass and drank. "I'm sure mortals have not changed overly much since my last visit."

Johanna watched him. She looked frustrated and maybe hurt, maybe disappointed. It reminded him of Sif. "What will _you_ do, God Loki?" she asked. "I've told you everything about us, even after you destroyed our reactor, but you've given me nothing in return. Not even proof of your identity."

Loki didn't look up from the wine swirling his glass. It truly was awful. "You have proof," he said. "Your workers cleaned my blood from the floor. Surely you're having it tested as we speak."

Johanna said nothing, so he continued. "If you are anything like your namesake, I know what it is you want most. You want his power." His lips curled in a bitter smile. "But the last man I gave my blood to did not have a fitting end. You must know that."

"You know what I want," Johanna said. "What do _you_ want?"

Loki pressed his thumb hard into the lip of his glass. He didn't have an answer.

***

Jane was a champion small-talker, and Steve had never been more grateful for it. He needed only to prod her along and she led the conversation beautifully. He didn't quite understand everything but it didn't matter. He was still half convinced that he would wake up at any moment.

Steve had finished his lunch, and was accepting what remained of Jane's, when music started playing from her pocket. She excused herself and answered the phone. "Hi, Erik. Yeah, sorry, I got hung up talking to...hm?" Her eyes went wide. "What, right now? Jeez, I thought he wasn't coming until five." She popped out of her chair and piled her garbage onto her tray. "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

"Is something wrong?" asked Steve, finishing off the last banana.

"Tony Stark is here early," she said, and instinctually Steve stood from his chair. "Damn it, this whole project could hinge on this and he's over an hour early--I needed to be there." She scooped her tray up and started to leave until she remembered she wasn't actually talking to herself. "Steve--I'm sorry, but I have to run."

"Tony Stark?" Steve repeated. He gathered his own things and followed her to the trashcans. "As in Stark Industries?"

"Yeah." She grinned. "Unreal, isn't it? Not every day you meet a celebrity. Or are late in meeting one." She dumped her trash and headed for the door, Steve on her heels.

"He's not by any chance related to _Howard_ Stark, is he?"

Jane shot him an incredulous look. "Well of course he is--Howard Stark was his father." She chuckled. "You really don't keep up on a lot of news, do you?"

Steve didn't try to counter. "Can I come with you?" he asked instead. "To meet him?"

"Oh...I don't know. I guess it'll depend on your clearance." 

They took the stairs down to the lobby and from there crossed the courtyard to another, less architectural and more practical building. Jane let them into the lobby: small, circular, gray, with a security desk at the center and five glass doors leading in different directions. A tall, red-headed woman was seated near the wall, tapping away at something, but it was beyond the middle door that Steve's attention was drawn. Agent Coulson was in there, speaking to an older man and a shorter, dark-haired man in an expensive-looking suit. The way he was standing, one hand in his pocket, the other gesturing as he spoke, reminded Steve instantly of Howard.

Jane hurried to the door and swiped her ID, but the man behind the security desk stood before Steve could follow. "Sir, I'm sorry but you don't have clearance to be in here."

"But I..." Steve gestured to conversation going on past the door. "I just wanted to meet--"

"Sir, please stand back."

"Um, wait here," said Jane. "I'll see if I can coax him out for you." With a harried grin she joined her peers inside.

The guard gave Steve a heavy look, so he stepped back, his hands placating. He watched, antsy, as Jane greeted the three men and shook Tony's hand. After all the strangeness of that day it brought a smile to his face, remembering the times they used to joke about Howard and the likelihood of him fathering children all across the European front.

"Excuse me." The red-head tapped him on the shoulder. "Is it Tony you're here to see?"

Steve blinked at her in confusion. "Yes?"

"Can _I_ help you?" When he continued to stare, she offered, "I'm Pepper Potts, his assistant."

"Steve Rogers," he introduced himself automatically. "I'm sorry, I don't want to interrupt anything, it's just..." He smiled sheepishly, having no idea how to explain. He wasn't even sure what he intended to say to Tony himself. "Maybe another time would be better."

Pepper smiled at him sideways. "You don't look like an agent. You're not here for an autograph, are you?"

"Well, I..." He chuckled. "Actually, maybe I am."

Inside, Tony finally noticed them. He looked twice and, with what appeared to be protests from Coulson, headed for the door. "Potts," he said as he slipped into the lobby. "What did I tell you about cavorting with the natives while we're here?"

Pepper heaved a sigh that was as much amusement as irritation. "Really, Tony, _cavorting_?"

Jane and the rest of her peers followed, and suddenly it was a production, Steve glancing between them in embarrassment. He gulped. Somehow, a room full of strangers was more intimidating that the front lines. "Steve Rogers," he introduced himself to anyone left who cared to know. Tony was eyeing him with a strange look but at least he shook Steve's hand when it was offered, and he followed up by blurting out, "I knew your father."

Tony's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise, but soon settled into confusion and even wariness. "Huh," he said. "No kidding."

"I know it sounds strange, but it's the truth." He tried not to wince beneath the many perplexed faces staring him down. "Sorry to have interrupted your meeting for this, I'm just glad to be able to meet you."

"Look," said Tony, "if you're another of Fury's spies you can just say so at this point, because really, my _dad_?" He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Dead twenty years now, so unless he was a judge at your school science fair or something, I really don't know what you're trying to pull here."

"Mr. Stark," said Coulson, but Steve was already shaking his head.

"I'm not trying to pull anything," he said. "Honestly. But it's kind of a long story."

"Not interested." Tony faced Jane. "Are you ready or not?"

She straightened. "O-Of course I'm ready." She flashed Steve an awkward but sympathetic look and then turned, with her elder colleague, back toward the labs. "Whenever you are, Mr. Stark."

They started to go, but as they did Coulson took Tony by the elbow and said something close to his ear. Steve couldn't hope to interpret the expression that came over Tony--tense, and full of history. "Not interested," he said again, and then, without looking back, called, "We'll only be a few minutes, Dear."

"I'll be here," Pepper replied.

Coulson ushered the group on and then turned back. "Sorry about that, Captain," he said. "I had hoped to brief Mr. Stark on your unique circumstances before you were introduced."

"Wait, then it's true?" Pepper looked Steve over incredulously. "You really knew Tony's father?"

Steve could have told her the truth. He could have attempted to explain in hopes that Tony would at least understand, through her, that it hadn't been a con. He could have said "It's a long story" and let Coulson fill in the rest, but he suddenly felt five feet tall again. He was exhausted and frustrated and all he managed to utter was, "Excuse me," before walking out.

The courtyard bustle had diminished, leaving only a few black-suits to stare curiously at the retreating Steve. He didn't make it far. Halfway down the path his knees felt week and he stumbled, bracing himself against a concrete garden wall. The cold stone scraped across his palm, stinging and undeniably real. When he had his balance he leaned back and watched the raw skin flex with every movement of his fingers.

"Captain?" Coulson approached slowly and stopped a few paces away. "Are you all right?"

Steve leaned against the wall and looked around him. He tried to tell himself that if he stared long enough he would find something familiar, even if it was in something as simple as the trees lining the grounds, the hazy afternoon clouds, the sound of distant water. He breathed in the coastal air and willed it to calm him. But when he closed his eyes all he could hear was a rush of air and ice, gunfire and tank wheels, a man's fading scream and a hurried _wait_ , all at the edges of his perception as if at the end of a long tunnel he couldn't traverse.

Coulson touched his shoulder. "Captain?" he asked again, gently.

Steve let his hand fall. "I'm not going back," he said.

"No." Coulson gave him a squeeze. "I'm afraid not." When Steve couldn't manage anything else, Coulson nudged him away from the wall. "Come on," he said. "I'll take you back to your room."

Steve followed, only because he couldn't think of anywhere else to go. "I just don't understand," he murmured, staring blindly at the passing strangers. "Any of it."

"I know. I'm sorry; I don't have any answers for you." Coulson took a deep breath. "But I do know that we need you, now more than ever, and we're going to do everything we can for you." When Steve looked at him, he repeated, "We need you, Captain."

It was hollow comfort, but he knew what Peggy would say, if she were beside him. "I'll do my best, sir."

***

Loki watched the sky burn from blue into orange. The wind grew soft and cool, prickling his skin through the thin fabric of his borrowed clothing. It wasn't until the sun dipped behind the trees that the true cold rolled in; he wrapped his arms close, but his shivers were too deep to suppress. Soon the daylight would shrivel up and leave the black of space and a billion points of light, gleaming down on him like a hungry beast denied its prey. Loki felt its pull with every star that trickled into view, as if the gravity of the cosmos still had its hold on him, eager to draw him back to its abyss.

As a child he had stared into Asgard's horizon with relish. The branches of Yggdrasil had been as much a home to him as Asgard itself, and he had taken pride in his mastery of them. It would never be that way again, and he mourned the loss as much as the many others he had suffered.

Loki hunched over his knees, watching the humans scuttling between their structures from his rooftop vantage. They were ugly and powerless and pathetic, unenlightened, warmongering, cowardly. The specimens below him were especially foolish and weak; having lost their bid for power they had no choice but to cower in the wilds as failures. But the worst of their sins, the one Loki could not forgive them for, was their lack of self-awareness.

Humans didn't know how small they were. They had no knowledge of the immensity of the cosmos, nor the frailty of their own existence. They thought themselves princes among the stars but they were merely paupers, oblivious to the scorn fixed on them by all beings of reason and power. How dare they be that naïve. Loki's jaw clenched until it ached and he _hated_ them for not even knowing what they were.

"Lord Loki?"

Loki turned just enough to glare at the approaching figure: one of Johanna's scientists. She was still dressed in a white lab coat, her red hair a mess of irreparable curls. He recognized her as the smear that had helped pull the glass from his stomach, and when he glanced to her hands, the gauze wrapped around her fingers confirmed it. "What?" he grumbled.

"I...don't mean to disturb you," the woman said. She edged closer skittishly and made a great effort to choose her words. "I just--that is, we just wanted to know if you'll be staying with us. We don't have much to offer, but if you needed a room..."

Loki turned away. It didn't matter where he went or slept. It didn't even matter that he was alive because he had nothing. Infinity separated him from his home, a hopeless terrain he dared not attempt to cross again. Even if he had that courage, only punishment awaited him on the other side. He was alone with only the conviction that if he did reveal himself to Heimdall, prove he had survived, without the Bifrost there was no chance of pursuit or rescue. He would still be doomed to walk amongst mortals knowing his brother watched him from the heavens, hating him.

The woman sat down next to him. She was shivering, and he couldn't tell whether it was from cold or fearful reverence. "What happened to you?" she asked quietly.

Loki stared at the last rays of sunlight streaming through the branches. "The same thing that happened to you," he replied. "I lost."

"To whom?"

Loki shook his head and leaned back so he could face her. "Why do you continue to fight a war you've already lost?" he asked. "Johanna Schmidt has nothing, but you follow her. What makes you think you can change the world?"

"I don't know," she admitted. She took a deep breath. "But doing nothing is worse. And...it wasn't always like this." She shrank into her shoulders. "A year ago, we were making real progress. If only Hammer hadn't abandoned us, our arc reactor would be long finished by now."

Loki started. "Hammer?"

"Justin Hammer, of Hammer Industries." The woman crowded deeper into herself beneath his heavy stare. "He was funding our research until the Iron Man showed up."

Loki glared at her a moment longer, but when she showed no signs of being insincere, a short bark of incredulous laughter sprang from him. She flinched and it only made him laugh more. "Hammer," he repeated. "Your benefactor--the man who gave aid to the children of Schmidt--is named _Hammer_."

She gulped and fidgeted. "Yes...?"

Loki laughed, curling over his knees until his stomach hurt and something manic crept into the corners of his eyes. "He would be," he said, still breathless with humor. "Oh, he would be, wouldn't he. Even gods are a thing of mockery for the Fates."

"Sir...?"

"But you're wrong." Loki wiped his face and straightened up once more. "Hammer or no, it's as I told your leader: only the Tesseract has the power to create the world you wish for. No creation of humankind can rival it, not for another..."

Loki trailed off, his eyes drawn again to the sky. More stars had bloomed and he stared into the spaces between them, reminding himself of how far away his homeland really was. "There is nothing in Midgard as powerful as the Tesseract," he murmured. "Whoever wields it..."

Loki wrapped his arm around the woman beside him, and she managed only a shrill whimper as he pulled them off the edge of the roof. They landed in the soft earth without harm. Without waiting to see if she was stable, Loki let her go and marched into the building.

Johanna was in the main lab again, supervising the cleanup efforts of her fellow scientists. She tensed as Loki drew near. "What do you need?" he asked as everyone in the room stopped their work to stare. "You said someone in this country is likely to hold the Tesseract now. What will it take to find it?"

"Access," she replied precisely. "An agent inside the US government." She stood a little taller. "But even with that power what we need most is our equipment back. Soldiers, and funding, and someplace to work. If we have that, finding and retrieving the Tesseract will be much simpler."

Loki eyed her impatiently. "You have something in mind."

Johanna all but seethed. "I need Justin Hammer."

"You will have him," said Loki. "And whatever else necessary, so long as you lead me to the Tesseract." He grinned. "Then you will be in no doubt of my identity, Lady Schmidt."

The woman from earlier finally caught up to him. "But Justin Hammer is in a federal prison," she said weakly. "Awaiting his trial."

"Then he ought to be easy to find." Loki waved her closer. "You--prepare me a room," he instructed. "I've decided to stay, for the time being."

"Yes, sir." She bobbed her head. "My name is Synthia," she added. "I'll have your room prepared right away."

She left, and so did Loki, retreating to the rooftop to finish watching the sky darken to night. There was a quiver in his gut. As soon as he laid hands on the Tesseract, not even his magic would hide him from Gatekeeper Heimdall's eyes. All of Asgard would see the fate of traitor Loki, abandoned but alive, forging Midgard anew. 

"I was born to be a king," Loki said under his breath, watching the eyes of the universe open, one by one, against a backdrop of black. "I will not disappoint again."


	3. Chapter 3

"Director Fury, I'd like to request a transfer."

Seated behind his desk, Fury stopped his typing but did not look up. "To?"

"Camp Lehigh, sir."

The typing resumed. "Lehigh is a Boy Scout camp now," said Fury.

Steve clenched his jaw. "Then I'd like to request a transfer to the regular army at a base or infantry of your choice, sir."

"Request denied," Fury replied, still without lifting his head.

Steve had expected and prepared for that answer, but frustration still made his voice tighten. "May I ask why?"

"You're needed here." Fury at last met his gaze. "They're not mistreating you here, are they?"

"No, sir, but--"

"Then keep at it, soldier." Fury waved for the door. "Dismissed."

Steve started to protest, stopped, and then glanced over his shoulder at the door. With a deep breath he turned back. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Denied."

"With all due respect," Steve continued anyway, "I've been here for over a week now, and still no one can tell me how long I'll be here or what I'll be doing, let alone when I'll be doing it. I don't mean to be ungrateful but you can't keep me here against my will."

Fury turned away from his computer, and Steve leaned back, preparing to meet the familiar ire of a senior officer displeased. But Fury wasn't angry--his face was almost blank, completely unmoved. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is not the regular army, Cap," he said. "We can't just put you on active duty without the proper training."

"Then _train me_ ," Steve insisted. He braced both hands on Fury's desk. "Demote me to Private and send me back to camp. I don't care about rank, I just want to fight."

"You're not ready," said Fury. "And you're not going anywhere." He grinned, flashing teeth. "Finders, keepers."

Steve stared back at him, wanting to be incredulous, but Fury's look of careless ease made him realize he shouldn't have expected less. "Yes, sir." He bowed his head shortly--instinct, mostly--and showed himself out.

"I don't understand," he confessed, half an hour later, as he pummeled the gymnasium sandbag that had become his most common companion. "They went through all this trouble to dig me out and now they won't do anything with me. Just blood tests, and strength tests, and brain tests, every day."

Jane sat down on a rolled up mat nearby, her laptop on her knees, a Power Bar dangling out of the corner of her mouth. "They're worried about you," she said, clacking away at her keyboard. "It's not every day someone survives half a century frozen in ice. They have to document it." She smirked. "It's what we scientists do."

Steve threw a hard right into the bag and felt the impact shudder up his arm. Days ago the same attack had left him sore, but he was getting stronger all the time. It wouldn't be long before he was at his peak again, but it was hard to maintain any pride in his progress. "I should be over there," he continued. "Everyone says war is different now, but I can still shoot a gun. There are soldiers overseas right now, fighting and dying." He stopped the bag from swaying. "I should be with them."

"Steve..." Jane glanced up from her work to offer a sympathetic smile. In the days since his arrival, she had become his second most common companion. Thanks to Coulson explaining his situation to her, he had depended on her a great deal in learning to use the modern technology that surrounded him. She understood better than most the disconnect he felt at having been thrust into a new way of life.

Steve abandoned the bag and joined her on the mat. "It's funny," he said, and when she broke off the uneaten end of her Power Bar for him, he accepted. "After everything, I'm back to being a lab rat. The one thing I didn't want."

"Just give it some more time," said Jane. She chuckled. "Like you told me yesterday after I almost pushed Tony Stark out a window."

Steve smiled as he nibbled on his snack. "Warmed up to you as much as he did me, huh?"

"No, he's--he's fine." Jane shook her head. "Probably the smartest man I've ever met. It's his work habits that are driving me crazy. But we wouldn't be able to do this project without him, so I, like _you_ ," she patted him on the shoulder, "will just have to cope for a while longer."

"Someday I'm going to work up the clearance to find out what it is you're working on." Steve took a deep breath, and was about to ask if Tony had ever mentioned him, when the gym door swung open and Clint strolled in. When he spotted Steve, however, his expression twisted.

"Oh...Rogers." He waved awkwardly.

"Barton." Steve knew exactly why Clint hesitated but that didn't stop him from bounding to his feet. "You here for a workout?"

Clint hemmed, but he was no match for Steve's suddenly bright enthusiasm. "Okay, okay, but please don't make me hold the bag for you this time. I need my shoulder in its socket to be able to shoot."

"Whatever you want," said Steve as Jane giggled at them from the mat. "I just need to do _something_."

***

Four weeks after having been remanded to the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, Justin Hammer knew for certain that incarceration was simply not his thing. He had sprouted at least four gray hairs and his skin was a pale, sickly color, pinched into fresh wrinkles. Being a millionaire had saved him from the wilds of the general population, but he was thwarted in every attempt at comfort, from the paper thin mattress to the privacy-deprived toilet. And he _hated_ orange.

"It's not fair," he muttered to himself as the cell door clanged shut. "It's not my fault, I'm not the one who did it. I didn't hurt anyone."

"Save it for court," the guard retorted, giving the bars a yank to test their security before stalking away.

Hammer made faces at his back. "Save it for court," he mocked. "Three more weeks." He thumped onto the bed--if it could even be called that--and rubbed his face with both hands. "God, three more weeks, three more weeks. I can't--I won't make it. Put a bullet in me." Groaning, he collapsed onto his side. "Who I wouldn't kill for a dry martini."

"I might be able to arrange something for you."

Hammer started, and craned his head just enough to see the barred entrance to his cell. A man stood on the walkway, pale-skinned and dark-haired, impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit. Hammer ached jealously at the sight of his tailored waistcoat and silver cufflinks. "You're not one of my lawyers," he said. "Are you?"

The stranger cocked his head to the side. "You are Justin Hammer, no?"

"Yes...?" When it occurred to Hammer who the man must have been, he groaned and swung his legs onto the bed as well. "Listen buddy, I've had enough FBI to last me a lifetime. And I don't answer questions without my lawyers." He shooed the man away. "If you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of an elaborate murder fantasy."

Hammer turned away from his visitor, but when he reached for his pillow, the normally hard-as-a-rock cushion gave way beneath the slightest pressure of his fingers. With a hiss the fabric parted, and from the sheered edges emerged a gleaming, black snake head.

Hammer stared, uncomprehending, until another slithered onto the mattress. With a squealed "Oh _shit!_ " Hammer jerked back and tumbled to the floor. "What the hell is that?" he shouted as he scrambled away on all fours. "Where did that--how are there--" He looked to his visitor and, seeing the curl of his lip, threw himself against the bars. "Was that you? Did you put _snakes_ in my bed? How--why would you _do_ that?"

The man rolled his eyes upwards. "It never gets old," he said coyly.

"Who the hell are you?" Hammer reached through the bars, but the stranger was faster: he felt only a wisp of the lapels beneath his fingers before his wrist was painfully captured, his arm yanked through and twisted so that he was trapped with his chest to the cell door.

"Wait!" he gasped. "Wait, wait, _shit_ , who the hell are you?"

"Listen to me carefully," the man said close to his ear. "I am going to free you from this prison. In return, you will do for me anything I ask. You will give me everything you have, and then some. Do you understand?"

Hammer squirmed, which only resulted in another painful turn of his wrist. "I don't have anything--I don't have anything," he said. He laughed nervously. "They wouldn't even let me have my own toothbrush."

"Johanna Schmidt thinks differently."

Hammer went cold. His grin twitched and he stared back at the stranger plaintively, expecting him to reveal his words as a joke, but green eyes stared calmly back. "Schmidt," he echoed, his chuckle frail. He grew at least three more gray hairs. "Oh god, she's here, isn't she?" The iron grip on his wrist suddenly didn't seem quite so bad. "Prison isn't enough; she's gonna kill me."

"She wants what you took from her," the man said. "And you are going to give it to her, or _I_ will be the one who kills you. Right now."

He pulled his lips back in a snarl, revealing to Hammer a snake's maw with long, polished fangs. Hammer shrieked, and long before the venom could drip anywhere near him he sputtered out, "Okay, okay! I'll get her her guns back, _Jesus_ , what are you?"

He snapped his jaws shut, and when he grinned his teeth were straight and white again. "You can call me Loki," he said.

"Hey!" A pair of guards approached with hands on their nightsticks. "Hammer, what the hell are you doing?"

Loki let go, and Hammer groaned as he stretched his throbbing arm. "Me?" He looked from the guards, to Loki, and back. "I didn't do anything. He's the one breaking my arm!"

The guards exchanged raised eyebrows. One of them looked directly at Loki with no reaction. "Get back on your bunk, Stark Jr. You've had your exercise for one day."

Hammer continued to gape at them, and when he didn't follow orders soon enough, the guards came at him with their batons unsheathed. He tried to pull away but twisted his arm painfully in the bars. "Wait," he said, laughing nervously as he untangled himself. "I'm doing it, okay? You don't have to--"

The first of the guards reached for him and got a handful of his shirt. He started to shove Hammer back, but then the bars began to hiss, and all at once the metal sprang into a web of wriggling serpents. They fell over the guards as a living net, coiling and twisting. With screams of horror the men stumbled and flailed beneath the biting snakes. Hammer threw himself, shrieking, against the wall of his cell, until Loki grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him past the commotion and onto the walkway.

"Stay close to me," Loki instructed as a group of guards rushed toward them. "Do not let us be separated."

"But wha..." Hammer ducked behind Loki as best he could, but the guards didn't notice them at all. Instead, they were rushing to and then dancing fearfully around the pile of angry vipers. "They can't see us?" When Loki's gait was almost too much for him to keep up with, he turned away from the growing spectacle and focused on where they were headed. "Whoa. This is some kind of serious optical illusion tech, isn't it? The lady's been busy."

Loki grunted and continued to drag Hammer along until they reached the stairwell. He waited, patiently, until a guard unlocked it from the other side and passed through on his way to join his growing number of his confused and helpless peers. Loki grabbed the door once he was clear and pushed Hammer through, just as a shout announced their absence.

"So, uh." Hammer tried to shake free from Loki's grip, but it remained firm as they hurried down the stairs. "Just what is ol' Schmidty up to this time? So I can, you know, think of something that makes my life worthwhile to her once we're out of here."

"She wants the HYDRA equipment returned," Loki said without looking back. "And access to the facility that holds them, so she can continue her research, along with funding, housing, and the compliance of your entire guild of scientists."

"Ahh...well, okay. Not _a whole lot_ then." He rolled his eyes and laughed. "Seriously, she does realize why I'm _here_ , yes? My company has _dumped_ me." The truth of it stung more than he wanted to admit. "I can't just snap my fingers and give her an army--I couldn't even do that the last time. 'Cause that's what this is really all about, isn't it? Her and her... _global domination_. Thing." He shuddered. "How tacky."

Loki stopped them on the first floor landing and turned, fixing his eyes on him. They almost seemed to glow even in the well-lit stairwell. "You doubt her?"

Hammer fidgeted. "Don't get me wrong," he said. "She's a great girl, really. But when I kicked her out she didn't have more than three dozen loyalists and a whole lot of promises she couldn't keep. That's why I got rid of her in the first place--that technology of hers is a dead end." He shrugged helplessly. "The world couldn't care less about their neo-Nazi bullshit, believe me."

Loki's eyes narrowed, and without a word he turned, aiming his open palm at the door opposite them. The air grew cold a moment before light blazed, and from Loki's fingertips shot a blast of energy that shredded the door in a flash of blue and white. Metal and glass hailed down on the corridor beyond with a clap like thunder. 

Loki regarded Hammer's stunned expression with some relish. "Technology like that?" he taunted, and when Hammer couldn't reply, he dragged them onward.

***

Steve and Clint were running-- _slowly_ \--through a hand-to-hand combat drill when the gym began to wail. Lights and sirens blared, and immediately Steve's heart was sent pounding. There was no mistaking an emergency alarm in any decade, but for once he had no idea where to go or how to react. He ached for an armory down the hall and a shield. on his arm.

Clint ran to a panel by the door and began pressing buttons. "This is Barton. What've we got?"

A woman's voice emptied from the speaker. "A prison break. You're to report to the helipad immediately."

Jane shoved her laptop into its shoulder bag and jogged over. "What's going on?"

"Go back to your lab," said Clint, already shedding the tape from his hands. "It's not on site--you're fine." He clapped Steve on the arm. "We'll pick up later."

"Hey wait--" Steve followed him, tossing his own gloves and tape aside along the way. "Let me come with you."

"Can't." Clint picked up his pace, even though he had to have known there was no way he could lose Steve. "We don't get called out like this hardly ever, you know. It must be something big."

"Then you might need help," Steve reasoned as he chased Clint to the stairs. They bounded down them two at a time down to the basement. "I may be new but I'm not green. I've been in combat."

Clint used his keycard to let them out into the floor, which Steve had never been on: steel gray lockers lined the walls, and at the far end Steve could see racks of weapons, each locked in cabinets. He swallowed. "I won't slow you down," he said. "I promise."

"It's not up to me," Clint said, shrugging. He jerked open one of the lockers and pulled out fresh, black attire, including Kevlar vest and fingerless gloves. "You haven't been cleared for duty."

"And if Fury gets his way I never will be. Please." He grabbed Clint's shoulder and forced the man to meet him eye to eye. "If there's anything I can do to help, I want to do it. I can't just sit here on the sidelines anymore."

Clint stared back at him, wincing and indecisive. At last he sighed. "You're gonna have to squeeze into my spares, then," he said, shoveling more equipment out of the locker.

Steve grinned as he exchanged his t-shirt and sweats for Clint's combat gear. The vest was a strain to close but the boots fit well enough. "Thank you," he said as they stopped in front of the weaponry. "If it looks like too much heat I'll back off. I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Clint unlocked one of the glass cases with a swipe from his ID. "That's what S.H.I.E.L.D. is best at."

Steve followed Clint to the helipad. With Clint's ID getting them through security, and Steve's determined expression warding off any who might have thought he shouldn't be there, they made it all the way to the landing pad without being questioned or halted. A helicopter was already waiting for them, its blades and engine thundering. Steve continued to stare straight ahead, eager and anxious for whatever was to come. Before they could reach the chopper, however, Agent Coulson split from the nearby soldiers and fell into step next to Clint.

"There's been a breakout at the MDC in Brooklyn," he said. "We think it's Justin Hammer."

"Hammer?" Clint scoffed. "Someone actually came for him?"

Coulson smiled sideways. "Stranger things have happened. Just do your best to take in him and whoever's helping him alive. We have a lot of questions for them."

"Yes, sir."

Coulson let Clint move on, but it was then that he noticed Steve. He did a double take and hurried after them again. "Captain Rogers? Can I ask what you're doing?"

"I'm going with him," Steve said matter-of-factly.

Clint climbed into the side of the chopper and offered a hand to help Steve up. Coulson blinked between them like a startled deer. "No you're not."

"I need a spotter," said Clint.

"No." Coulson shook his head and waved for Steve to climb out. "I'm sorry, Captain, but you're not cleared for active duty."

"Agent Coulson." Steve braced one hand against the copter door as he faced Coulson. "I'm a soldier," he said. "And the only good I can do is out there, in the fight. If you won't let me go you might as well put me back in the ice where you found me."

Coulson tried to argue and stopped himself several times before finally managing a thin smile. They exchanged a nod, but before Steve could turn away Coulson waved him back. He freed his handgun from its holster and offered it up.

"Just stay on the helicopter, okay?" he said.

Steve accepted the weapon gladly. "Yes, sir." When Coulson finally stepped back, Steve was fairly certain he was beaming.

Clint yanked the helicopter door closed, and with reassurances to the pilot that they were secure, they took off. As Steve took a seat Clint stood opposite, prepping his bow. "Interesting choice of weapon," Steve remarked. "Do you have something against guns?"

"Nope." Clint glanced to the pistol in Steve's hands. "You sure you know how to use that?"

Steve pulled a face. "I'm not _that_ old." He strapped the weapon into the holster on his vest. "So who is Justin Hammer?"

"Justin Hammer," Clint echoed. "Former CEO of Hammer Industries. Weapons manufacturers." He finished tinkering with the bow and sat down. "A couple weeks back he hired an escaped convict, Ivan Vanko, to design some weapons for him, so the story goes. But Vanko slipped Hammer's leash, sent the robots rampaging through Stark's Expo." He frowned. "The Stark Expo is--"

"I've been to one," said Steve. "Were there casualties?"

"Dozens injured. Eleven dead--collateral damage." Clint shook his head. "Vanko was taken out, so that left Hammer to take the heat. He's been in prison awaiting trial. Director Fury said we should be ready for something like this, but I can't imagine who would want Hammer now. His company is being sued five ways 'til Sunday and without it, Hammer himself is useless."

"Someone must disagree."

"Agent Barton," called the pilot. "We've got some information from NYPD."

Clint and Steve both crowded closer to hear. "What is it?"

"Hammer made it out of the prison," the man said. "He's in one of two black, unlicensed vans heading north out of Brooklyn through the Battery Tunnel. NYPD had them going in but they've lost them already."

"Lost them in the tunnel?" Clint scoffed. "There's some police work for you."

The pilot cupped one hand over his headset. "Car 18 is reporting they...vanished. Into thin air."

"You said they're weapon manufacturers," Steve said thoughtfully. "Scientists."

"This may be the future, but we haven't quite mastered 'vanishing into thin air' yet," replied Clint. He thumped the pilot on the shoulder and returned to his seat. "Let us know when we're over top of them."

Steve remained behind the pilot, watching as they swept over the bay, over the Verrazano Bridge. To his right he could see Brooklyn stretching out into the sunrise, at once so familiar and so alien. He strained in vain to make out a familiar neighborhood, but within minutes they were approaching Liberty Island, and he turned his attention instead to the roads.

"They have the exit to the tunnel closed off, but the vans haven't come through," reported the pilot. "And nothing's come out the entrance, either. They must have holed up somewhere inside the tunnel."

"You don't plan a prison break without some kind of getaway plan," said Steve. "They had to have realized that as soon as they headed for the tunnel, someone would seal their exit." He could see the flashing police lights ahead of them, forming a barricade just beyond the tunnel. "Where would _you_ go if you were trying to get out of the city with an escaped convict?"

"Assuming they're already in Manhattan, they'd be best off sticking to the water. On the Lincoln Highway, maybe?" He changed course. "But that's only if they made it past the police barricade somehow."

The copter swooped lower, and Steve opened the side door so he could get a better view of the city streets. At first too many buildings blocked his vision, but once they passed Pier 25 the skyscrapers were replaced with parks, giving him a clear line of sight to the highway. Clint watched him skeptically for a moment before joining. They stood close together, bracing themselves against the wind as they squinted at the cars below.

"There," Clint said abruptly. "Did you see that?"

He pointed to a pair of cars that had skidded off the road. It looked like any normal traffic accident, but then, several car lengths ahead, a truck suddenly hit its brakes for no apparent reason and swerved into a small, grassy park. "There's something there," Steve murmured as he watched the scene repeat further on. "Something invisible is forcing them off the road."

Clint ducked into the helicopter interior and returned wearing a pair of red-eyed goggles. He toggled them on and off several times. "God damn. They're right in front of that green Buick--can you see them?"

Clint's definition of a Buick was a far cry from Steve's, but he managed to spot the car. "There's nothing there," said Steve. As he watched the empty stretch of road another bulky car tried to merge into the lane but sideswiped an invisible wall and careened off. "You can see them?"

"Only on infra-red." Clint's lip curled as he retrieved his bow. "Get in close," he called to the pilot. "I'm going to slow them down."

Steve moved out of the way, one hand braced against the copter door. Once Clint was kneeling in position Steve grabbed the back of his vest to help steady him. "Thanks," Clint grunted, slinging an arrow. It wasn't like any arrow Steve had seen: the tip was heavy and metallic, with a blinking light set into the shaft. As the helicopter dipped closer, just above and behind the invisible targets, Clint took careful aim.

"Target sighted heading north on the Lincoln Highway," the pilot said into his mouthpiece. "Coming up on Hudson River Park."

"You are cleared to engage," replied the S.H.I.E.L.D. officer on the other end.

Clint released his arrow. The bowstring made only a whisper but it propelled its projection with force Steve hadn't anticipated. Despite the seemingly impossible distance, the arrow struck true, and in the leftmost lane a black van appeared out of nowhere with a burst of fire and smoke. It swerved left and right, stumbling on three tires as cars screeched out of its way. The driver made an impressive effort but in the end it was no use; the van veered out of control, into oncoming traffic where it was T-boned by a braking semi.

"Nice shot," said Steve, impressed. 

Clint frowned. "Well...we were supposed to take them alive. Guess that'll depend on how fast an ambulance finds them."

As the pilot reported the accident Steve looked back to the road and spotted the second van rushing onward, its peer abandoned. "There go their friends. Should we tell the police to set up another barricade now that they're visible?"

Clint reached for another arrow. "We don't know that they'll stay that way," he said. "I have a shot--I'm taking it."

The back of the van opened up, and Clint hesitated when a man pulled himself up onto the roof. "What the hell is that guy doing?"

"Don't shoot," said Steve. "If they lose control now, you'll kill him. Look."

The man stood up, heedless to the fact that he was on a vehicle racing down the highway. He lifted his hand, and for a moment Steve thought it must have been a gesture of surrender, that the van would slow and pull over. But then something flashed, bright and burning like a flare, and he barely had the presence of mind to shout a warning. "Incoming!"

A ball of light smashed into the cockpit with an earsplitting percussion. The helicopter lurched, for one sickening moment gaining altitude from the sheer force of the blast. The instruments screamed and then gravity caught up with them, tipping the metal belly as they began to plummet. Steve grabbed for the handrail over his head and felt his body snap taut when Clint--his vest still in Steve's grip--was nearly flung from the dying craft. Without letting go of his bow Clint clawed at the open door, his legs free and kicking in the air. He was cursing, and the chopper was falling like a rock, and it was all Steve could do to keep both of them from sailing onto the pavement below.

The Hudson stretched out behind them, but they wouldn't make it--they were coming down at too steep of an angle. Steve held his breath. He wasn't afraid. It couldn't be worse than smashing headfirst into ice, so he told himself. He could stand another crash as long as it wouldn't mean waking up in an even more alien world.

Something flashed toward them, and Steve tried to haul Clint back inside as if it might still protect them, but it was too fast. A blur of red and gold smashed into the side of the chopper, and the world fell out from under Steve again as the cabin spun almost upside down. He landed on the ceiling with a thud, his grip on Clint's vest preventing the man from being tossed _again_ , this time into the erratically turning blades now below them.

"Hurry--grab on to me!"

Steve stared blearily upward. The voice had come from the figure gripping their hull: shining metal in the approximation of a man. He didn't have time to contemplate. He heaved Clint to his feet and boosted him up so that he could climb onto the chopper's inverted underbelly.

"Come on!" the Iron Man shouted, his fingers digging into the hull as he struggled to slow the chopper's fall. "I can't hold it!"

Steve dove for the cockpit. The pilot was still strapped in, bleeding and unconscious. Steve yanked the already frayed straps free and caught the man, dragging him back to their unorthodox rescuer. He passed the pilot to Clint and then pulled himself up.

"Get ready," said the mechanized voice of the Iron Man. When Clint and Steve had a tight grip on his arms the jets in his heels roared, and with a groan of metal he released the helicopter.

The copter was sent spinning away, arching from the highway and into the waters of the Hudson. With the release of the weight the four survivors shot into the air, wild and flailing, the river and the city blurring together. Steve tasted bile, and as he clung to the Iron Man the screaming air sharpened into a voice.

_Remember when I took you to Coney Island?_

Steve's eyes watered from the stinging wind, but as they spun he caught a sudden glance of the highway, and upon it the dark spot of the van racing away from them. His chest hardened with fresh determination. As the Iron Man fought to get them under control and aimed for a landing in one of the roadside parks Steve scanned up and down the road, finally spotting his opportunity.

"Have you got him?" he shouted to Clint, indicating the pilot.

Clint replied in what sounded like the affirmative, but Steve made sure before acting. They were getting close to the ground, still rotating madly, and just at the right moment Steve braced his feet against the Iron Man's hip and leapt clear.

It was an impossible chance, he knew that. Between the swift descent, the angle, the inertia, and the traffic speeding on, he knew it would be a miracle if his fate was anything less than smashing against the pavement. But the impossible didn't frighten him anymore. His timing was perfect, and with the momentum from their spinning he landed roughly on the back of a passing semi-truck. His boots scraped against the roof, his knees buckled, and his bare forearms chafed until they bled, but he managed to stop himself before sliding clear off the other side. He let his breath out.

Steve glanced behind him just in time to see the Iron Man wrestling his burden to the ground. Assured that they had landed safely, he turned his attention ahead. The van was fifty yards away. He gauged the traffic but it wasn't dense enough for him to hop roofs, as he had done before. Several cars had already pulled off to the side after having witnessed the crashing helicopter. With a groan Steve crawled to the front of the truck and jumped onto the cab, and from there stretched out on his belly.

He leaned over the side and tapped on the driver's window. "Sir?"

The driver, a heavy-set man with a company cap, was already shouting into his radio. He blinked at Steve in shock and hastily rolled the window down. "Jesus! What the hell are you doing?"

"Sir, I need you to speed up," said Steve calmly. "I have to catch up to that van up there."

The driver balked. "Are you out of your goddamned mind?"

"No, sir, I'm Captain America. But if you'd rather, you can scoot over and I'll drive."

The driver stared, red-faced, and finally tossed his radio onto the seat. "If you fall off of my rig I'm not responsible," he grunted. "Don't know what the fuck's going on out here."

He shoved the pedal down, and the truck lurched forward like a charging bull. Steve righted himself to keep a better grip on the roof as they sped toward their fleeing quarry. His heart was pounding fiercely, sweat flying off his brow. For the first time since waking in a New York lab he felt honestly alive, throbbing bones and all. He was still a soldier. He was still worthwhile.

They were gaining. Steve could see a man still on the roof of the van, standing straight as if oblivious to the wind that must have been buffeting him; he was watching the helicopter sink into the river. The details of his face were still unclear but he was tall, with dark hair and wearing a suit. There was something eerie and almost unnatural about his unwavering posture and strict attention to his felled pursuers.

Steve was still too far away to make a move when the Iron Man shot into view. Something was expelled from his metallic hand that scarred the left side of the van, causing it to swerve and brake. The stranger crouched to keep his balance but came nowhere near being thrown; he lifted his hand and returned fire, narrowly missing his target.

There wasn't time to consider strange men shooting fire from their hands. In its attempts to remain under control, the van had slowed, giving Steve's carrier the chance to catch up. With the back doors still wide open, Steve could clearly see the interior: a driver, someone in the passenger seat, and in the hollowed back three men, one in an orange prison jumper. It was the prisoner that spotted the semi bearing down on them, but his cry of warning came too late; without hesitating to consider reason, Steve leapt to his feet and ran down the hood of the truck, flinging himself across the narrow gap into the van.

The armed men immediately lifted weapons, but Steve's momentum sent him crashing into the first, and the second he disoriented with a backhand to the side of his jaw. He turned on the convict expecting resistance, but Hammer cowered against the back of the driver's seat, screeching, "Wait wait wait, don't, just wait a minute--"

Steve drew the pistol from its holster and leveled it at the driver's temple. "Pull over!"

The driver tensed but didn't waver. Steve was about to make his demand again when something pulled on the back of his vest. He twisted, his arm thrown with the intention of catching his attack with his elbow, but there was no one behind him. Even so, he was drawn back with incredible force, his heels scraping against the carpeted floor. He grabbed at the walls, and in desperation fired ahead of him--the bullet scraped the passenger side headrest and cracked the windshield. Just when he thought he was about to be thrown onto the road after all, five fingers snatched the back of his shirt and yanked him into open air.

Steve's feet flew out from under him. His body sailed and he had a fleeting sensation that he was flying, completely free of gravity's pull. Then he crashed down again, not against asphalt but the hood of the van. The aluminum dented beneath his weight and the return of searing wind made him momentarily nauseous. Someone was leaning over him. He twisted onto his back, disoriented, and stopped.

Steve had never seen the man before. His features were drawn and narrow, his eyes piercing: an unforgettable countenance Steve was certain he would have remembered. They were strangers, but as they stared at each other a look came over the man that could have only been recognition. With wide eyes and parted lips he knelt, frozen, over his victim as if entranced. He tried to speak and no sound came out. There was only a gasp, a tiny sound almost lost to the rushing air that dove into Steve's ears and burrowed down into the heart of him.

 _He knows me_. The epiphany resounded in Steve's chest like gunfire in a steel cage. Escape no longer mattered and he could only stare. He tried to take a breath to voice the dozen questions already on his tongue, but was interrupted by a roar of engines overhead. The Iron Man was bearing down on them again, scorched but determined.

"I'd like to see you try that again," he taunted.

The stranger lifted his hand to comply, but motion returned swiftly to Steve's limbs and he pounced, tackling him onto his back. They grappled roughly on the roof of the van, Steve using all his weight and leverage to pin his taller opponent. "Who are you?" he demanded as he pulled the stranger's elbow across his chest to keep him detained. "You know me, don't you?"

The stranger continued to gape at him with that same look of paralyzed disbelief, and without realizing it Steve's hands began to shake. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me who you are!"

Someone was pulling themselves up the side of the van. Steve lifted his head and glimpsed his attacker--a woman, short hair hidden under a military cap, a gleam of silver on her lapel--before she pulled a gun on him and fired. Two shots caught him in the chest and flung him off the tall stranger. Breathless, he grabbed for the edge of the roof, but his fingers didn't close in time and with little more than a choked gasp he fell.

The ground rushed up to meet him. It was softer than it should have been, almost billowing, and as Steve tucked his body he felt warmth envelop and cushion him. He skidded seemingly inches above the ground, drawn impossibly out of the way of the few oncoming cars that remained, until sliding to a slow, peaceful stop on a patch of grass in the median.

Steve kept his eyes closed. He could still feel the unnatural heat that had swelled around him, and felt even more clearly when it dissipated. The world of cars braking and people shouting jarred to life and he remembered that he couldn't breathe. With a shudder he curled in on himself and struggled to get his vest open. It didn't alleviate the sting of the gunshots but it helped, and as he rubbed his chest he was at last able to get air back in his lungs.

He sat up. Several cars had stopped and their drivers were inching closer, but he ignored them, peering through involuntary tears at the northbound road. The van was long out of sight. Steve groaned as he stumbled to his feet. His legs were still wobbly but they held. When he stretched his arms and back, he could detect nothing broken. 

A by-now familiar whine of engines drew Steve's attention, and he backed up several paces as the Iron Man zoomed in for a landing. His paint was badly singed and some of the armor was chipped and bent. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he accused Steve immediately. "That was some crazy stunt you just pulled."

"Don't worry about me," said Steve. "You should be following Hammer."

"He's gone. They vanished into thin air. Not even infra-red could pick them up." His mask clanged open. "I should have known the little prick would try something like this, but I didn't realize he was so well liked."

Steve gaped at the revealed face of his ally. "Tony Stark?"

Tony offered a tired grin. "Captain. You all right? You look like you're in one piece, anyway."

"I'm fine," said Steve, and he ignored the doubtful look Tony cast at his raw forearms. "What about Barton? And--"

"They're both all right. I left them--hold on." He tapped the side of his helmet. "Yeah? Yeah, I've got him. We're just up the road from you."

Steve heard what sounded like Coulson acknowledge him. "I didn't know you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," he said awkwardly.

"I'm...not." Tony shrugged. "It's a long story." 

"Well..." Steve took a deep breath. "Thank you. You saved our lives back there."

Tony regarded him with that indescribable face again, which made Steve certain he now knew Steve's real history. It was weary and uncomfortable and strange, like a bad taste lodged in the back of his throat. "Don't worry about it," he said.

A black sedan pulled up to them, and from it emerged Coulson and Natasha. Coulson hurried forward with blatant concern. "Captain Rogers." The blood on his arms and the bullets still lodged in his vest made Coulson pale. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, sir." Steve winced. "Sorry I couldn't stay in the helicopter."

Coulson sighed through a wince of his own. Before he could speak, his radio sparked to life.

"Agent Coulson," came the steely voice of Director Fury. "That had better not be Captain Rogers outside my base."

The four of them exchanged a look.

***

Steve and Clint received medical attention at the base, and then were shown into a conference room in the administration building, where Natasha was already waiting. Clint and Natasha sat together on one side of the long table and Steve sat opposite. It wasn't unlike sitting outside the principal's office after a playground incident.

"Walker's going to be all right," said Clint. "He took a few bad burns, but they think he'll make a full recovery. Thanks to Rogers."

"We tried to take in the survivors from the first van, but we were too late," added Natasha. "Two died in the crash. The other two took cyanide before we could apprehend them."

Steve jerked out of his solitary musing. "Cyanide?"

"In pill form," said Natasha. "They all had one hidden in their teeth."

Clint grunted. "Fantastic."

Steve felt the blood drain from his face. His mind reeled back to the woman who had shot him, and the flash of silver on her lapel that was only now clarifying into an image. He blinked around the room, trying to get his errant thoughts in proper order, but however he tried he could only see the tall man on the roof of the van, staring up at him with disbelieving recognition.

Natasha noticed him staring into nothing. "Rogers?"

Steve pushed out of his chair and paced the room, looking for a cabinet, a desk--anything. There was a broad television screen in one corner, a table with water, but nothing stored beneath it. When he opened the door to peer up and down the hall Clint called him back.

"Fury's going to be even more pissed if you leave now," he warned.

"What are you looking for?" asked Natasha.

"Paper." Steve ducked back inside and made another sweep of the room without results. "Doesn't anyone keep paper anymore?"

"What for?"

"I need to..." Steve made a drawing motion with his hands. "I want to draw something."

Clint eyed him suspiciously, but Natasha stood and then slipped outside. She was gone for a minute and returned with a sheet of office stationary and a pen. "Will this do?"

"Yes." Steve accepted gratefully and returned to his seat. "Thanks." He immediately began to sketch.

He started with the shape of her face, what he remembered of it. He had never considered himself a great artist and working in pen didn't help, but as soon as he scratched out her stern jaw the rest of the details came easier, and he was able to clearly recall that single frame of his memory. As he worked he barely noticed that Natasha was leaning over his shoulder, or that Clint joined her a minute later. He didn't even notice the throb of his forearms every time he stretched his arm across the paper.

The door opened, and in strolled Tony Stark. He was free of his armor, instead dressed in a dark shirt and loose pants. "Did you miss me?" he greeted, but no one looked up. With a harrumph he waited for a moment to be acknowledged, and when it didn't happen he at last joined the pair huddling over Steve and his drawing. "Not the welcome I was expecting after saving three people from a falling helicopter. And a street-full of civilians. I hope you're up to something really fascinating over here." He peered down at Steve's drawing: a hard-angled woman with a short crop of hair and an intense, angry expression. "Huh. Cutie. I think...?"

Steve finished his sketch by detailing the pin on her lapel. "She was wearing this," he said, squiggling out the bulging skull and its tentacles. "I've seen it before--back in the war." He looked to his companions. "Do you know what this is?"

"Is it a skull?" Fury asked from the door. Everyone started. "With too many legs?"

Steve pushed to his feet. Fury's eye on him was cold with disapproval, but Steve couldn't bring himself to feel any guilt for his insubordination. No punishment Fury could level on him would be worse than the imprisonment he already faced. "Director Fury," he said urgently, holding up his drawing. "Do you know this woman?"

Fury stepped into the room, Coulson trailing behind. If Steve didn't know better he would have said Coulson's ears were looking chewed. But Fury was more important, and Steve watched the man's face carefully as he plucked the drawing out of Steve's hands. He studied it for a long moment.

"Mr. Stark," he said. "I think it's time we show them what you've been working with."

Fury led them out of the administration building, across the courtyard to the science center. It wasn't until they were inside, safely past security and the center of the five doors, that he offered any explanation. "The woman you met is Margot Hoch," he said, Coulson at his side and the rest of them trailing behind. "Of course, she hasn't gone by that name for years. When she turned twenty she had her name legally changed to Johanna Schmidt."

Steve's heart skipped. "Then she really is--"

"Yes." Fury cast a glance over his shoulder. "She's the current head of HYDRA."

Steve quickened his pace, putting him between Fury and Coulson. "HYDRA is active?" he demanded. " _Here_ , in America?"

"Only in the most technical sense of the word," said Coulson. "They're no longer the military power they were in your time, Captain."

Steve clenched his jaw as he glanced between them. "They shouldn't even exist by now. We systematically destroyed each of their bases, even their most secret one. Johan Schmidt died on that bomber. There wasn't anything left of HYDRA."

"You missed some," Fury said simply. "Or your friends did."

Steve just barely managed to swallow back his bitterness. "Where are they located?"

"We don't know. We know that within the last three years they were trying to build their following with the help of Hammer Industries, but were never able to get the necessary proof to go after him. I had been hoping that with Hammer's trial coming up, we would finally have access to his financial records and other guarded information that would lead us to Hoch and her followers, but as it turns out, Hammer kicked them to the curb months ago." He sighed in irritation. "Dead end."

"Except that they came for him today," said Coulson hopefully. He tapped on his phone and called up an image of a woman. "You're sure this is who you saw?"

Steve squinted at the tiny display. The detail wasn't clear but she was still unmistakable. "Yes, that's her."

Fury led them through another door, into a wide, circular lab with dozens of computers but only a few workers. Jane was among them, and she straightened up immediately as they entered. "Director Fury," she greeted hastily. She eyed his entourage. "Is everything all right?"

"We'd just like to see it, Doctor," he said, waving toward a device at the center of the room.

It looked like an industrial meat locker: solid steel walls encased four windows with glass as thick as Steve's wrist. All around it lights blinked and sensors recorded, and out of the top a series of thick tubes and wires sprouted like unruly tree branches. As Steve drew closer the light from inside seemed to strengthen, pouring out of the narrow windows with almost blinding intensity. He could feel the heat of it prickling under his skin, even through the many layers of protection, deep and almost soothing in its familiarity. He knew what it was without having to look inside.

"That's Schmidt's cube," he said, and everyone looked to him. "He was using it to power his bomber."

"He used it to power _everything_ ," Tony corrected him. He stepped to the fore and rapped on the glass with his knuckles. "It's in my dad's notes. They called it a Tesseract: the four-dimensional cube. And it's so damn special we don't know where it came from, what it's made of, or what it can do, let alone what it _is_." He smirked. "It's kind of a pain in the ass, really."

Steve glanced from him to Jane. "This is the project you've been working on? I thought you were...into space."

"The energy signature this thing is giving off is just like that of a phenomenon I witness in New Mexico," Jane explained. "They're connected, somehow. To..." She looked to Fury for permission to finish, and he nodded. "To Asgard," she said.

"Asgard," Clint repeated. "Isn't that Norse myth?"

"What it is or isn't doesn't really matter at this point," said Fury. "This cube has power. If what Schmidt was able to do with it in the '40s is any indication, with our technology today we ought to be able to draw any amount of energy out of it. It's the goose that lays the golden eggs." His eye narrowed on Steve. "And I'm sure HYDRA will want it back."

"Does Hammer know it's here?" asked Natasha.

"No." Fury strode forward and closed the shutter to the containment unit's windows. "The only people that know that the cube is here are in this room. And it's going to stay that way," he added pointedly. "HYDRA isn't what it used to be, but they are still a threat, and if they find out where it is, they'll come for it."

"Couldn't we use that to our advantage?" suggested Clint. "Draw them out?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and moved to one of the computers. "I've been a good little consultant," he said as he transferred a video file from his phone to the monitor. "I got you this."

Everyone crowded around and watched as video, taken apparently from some recording device in the Iron Man suit, began to play out. Tony fast-forwarded through his rescue of the helicopter--there was a brief image of Steve leaping onto the semi that earned him a few heavy looks--to his first attempt at taking on the second van. 

Steve leaned forward. It was surreal to see himself on the screen, in full color, being dragged out of the van by some imaginary force. Tony proceeded frame by frame until the tall stranger that had assaulted them turned, his full face captured by the camera.

"Anyone know him?" Tony asked the room.

Coulson scrolled through mugshots on his phone while Fury exchanged head shakes with Clint and Natasha. Steve watched each of them anxiously, and when none were able to come up with an identity, his shoulders sagged in disappointment.

"Well whoever he is," Tony went on, "he was shooting at me with a finger gun." He advanced the footage until they could all see the burst of light that the stranger's bare palm had generated. "I've never recorded anything like it. It was _cold_ energy. Frozen, somehow. Even with the upgrades to my armor I took a beating. Plus the whole disappearing act. They're operating with some very serious equipment."

"The van showed up on infra-red when we caught up to them," said Clint.

"But not afterwards. They must have realized that was how you spotted them." Tony shrugged. "I don't know how they did it," he admitted. "It's certainly nothing that Hammer developed, I know that much. Whatever they want him for, it's not to better their tech." He looked to Natasha. "Right? You've met this guy. Tell me they didn't just carry out the most pointless prison break in history."

"It's unlikely that Hammer is of much use to them," Natasha agreed. "But that hasn't stopped them from thinking he is, apparently."

"If we can figure out what they want from him, we might be able to plan an interception," said Coulson.

Fury nodded along. "I already have Hill looking into it. If the answer's in Hammer's finances, we'll find it."

Steve continued to stare at the screen. After watching Tony do it he figured out how to advance the frames, trying to catch a glimpse of that face--the look of sheer bewilderment the stranger had fixed on them when their eyes first met. There was no proper view but he remembered, as if the image had been burned onto his retina.

 _I know you_. It echoed through him, both surging and numbing, until the conversations around him faded to the background. Curiosity approaching desperation spurred him to cycle through the footage several times, looking for some clue, but no matter how he tried he found and remembered nothing. The face was completely unfamiliar to him.

"He recognized me," he blurted out.

Everyone stopped to look at him, so he repeated, "He recognized me. The man that shot down our helicopter."

"That's not possible," said Coulson, though he quickly looked to Fury for confirmation.

"Only S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel know you're here, Cap." Fury's expression hardened. "Unless you've been sneaking off base some time I don't know about."

"I haven't seen this man before," said Steve. "At least, I'm sure I haven't in the last week. But when he saw me, it was like..." He wasn't sure how to describe the sensation. "He recognized me. He wasn't expecting it, but he did."

"Are you sure it wasn't his reaction to seeing you leap from a crashing helicopter onto a moving truck?" prodded Tony.

"I know it doesn't seem possible, but I know what I saw," he insisted. "And he was with HYDRA--and here's Schmidt's cube. What if he's one of HYDRA's soldiers from my time that was also frozen somehow?"

"Cap," said Fury. "You know that's extremely unlikely." 

"But someone from the war would know how to use Schmidt's advanced weaponry. How can it be a coincidence that HYDRA made their move barely a week after you found me?" Steve turned on Jane. "You said you witnessed something in New Mexico that connects all this, too? If something big is going on it has something to do with me, and Schmidt. Which means--"

"Captain Rogers." Coulson took Steve's elbow, and it wasn't until the fingers dug into his sore muscles that he realized he'd been trembling. "I know it's been hard for you," Coulson said gently. "But you are the only one that made it this far. You shouldn't let yourself get caught up in...in wanting something to be true that isn't."

Steve met his gaze. He felt the tremor moved out of his limbs and deep into his chest, into the dark, delicate recesses he had been suppressing all week. He looked from one stranger to the next and knew what Coulson was saying was the truth. He was alone. There was no point in wishing for even a forgotten enemy to grant him connection to a past he couldn't reach. 

"You're right," he said. He took a deep breath, and Coulson's hand fell from his arm. "But we still have to figure out who he is, and how he was able to do what he did. It wasn't just the...shooting. He was strong enough to lift me onto the roof with one hand."

"I'll look into it," said Fury. "And I have jobs for everyone--even you, Stark."

Tony perked. "Does that mean we're finally going to discuss my consultant's fee?" He gestured to the monitor. "This is good stuff."

Fury rolled his eye and turned to Steve. "Jobs for everyone," he repeated. "That is, after you've worked off your punishment for leaving the base unauthorized. Are you prepared for that, soldier?"

Steve squared his shoulders. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He waved to the scientists. "Carry on, ladies and gentlemen."

Fury left the lab, and his agents with him. Steve was the last one out, his eyes still lingering on the image captured on Tony's screen.

He told himself that Coulson was right: there was no point chasing ghosts that didn't exist. He had seen what he had wanted to see, nothing more. 

He couldn't make his heart believe it.


	4. Chapter 4

Loki barely spoke over the hours it took for them to arrive back at HYDRA's temporary base. He sat against the wall with his fingers steepled, staring intensely at the feet of the man opposite him. The humans regarded him warily, awed and frightened by even his paltry demonstration of ability, but he ignored them. To outward appearances he may have seemed calm, but his pulse was throbbing in his ears, his ribs too tight against his lungs.

It wasn't possible.

Seventy years had passed since he watched Steve Rogers sink into the murky ice of the Atlantic. Even for an immortal it was enough time for bitter disappointment to dull to a distant, half-forgotten regret. There should have been nothing left on Midgard of Loki's last visit, no familiar face ally or otherwise. It wasn't possible for a mortal to have survived the arctic tomb, let alone the decades afterwards.

But when Loki closed his eyes he could replay the hours-old memory with perfect clarity: the blond, strong-jawed soldier surviving again against all odds in pursuit of his target. He could see a ghost staring up at him, confused and intrigued, breathless but undeniably alive beneath his hands. It made no sense and he doubted his eyes and ears even as he dared to imagine it could be true.

Steve Rogers was alive. Impossibly, inexplicably, devastatingly alive.

Hammer squirmed opposite him. "Um...you okay there, big guy?"

Loki's gaze snapped to him, and he flinched back. "I mean, that was really something," Hammer stammered. "What you did back there. _How_ did you do that, exactly?"

Loki ignored his question. "Who was that man?"

"Iron Man?" Hammer scoffed. "Don't get me started on--"

"The man," Loki said impatiently. "The soldier--the one that was in this vehicle."

He winced and shook his head. "Ah, man, I don't know. Do you--" He turned to the HYDRA soldier next to him. "--Do _you_ know who that was? No? Me neither."

With a scowl Loki pushed himself mostly upright and leaned between the two front seats. "Who was that soldier you shot at?" he demanded of Johanna.

"It was probably a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.," she said. She frowned at him. "Why?"

"I need to know who it was." When it looked as if she might ask why again, he spoke over her. "And what 'S.H.I.E.L.D.' is, and who that man of iron is as well."

"Our knowledge of S.H.I.E.L.D. is limited," she said. "But I'll get you everything we have."

At the base, Johanna got out first and all but dragged Hammer out of the back of the van. After hours of giving him only the barest attention she was suddenly impassioned, and Loki followed with mild interest as she forced Hammer, at gunpoint, into a back room of the facility. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know," she said, shoving him into a chair. "Right now."

"All right, all right." He held his hands up in surrender. "But it's very hard to think under these circumstances. Could I maybe get--"

She dug her handgun into the side of his neck. " _Talk_."

"Okay! But I'm telling you, I don't have anything. Yet," he added when her finger slipped over the trigger. "But even if I tell you where the facility is, it's closed down now. It won't do you any good. Oh please, don't kill me."

Johanna growled at him, baring teeth, but Loki intervened before she lost her temper. "Justin Hammer," he said evenly, and when he had Hammer's attention, he went on. "You're going to tell me right now where HYDRA's weapons are being stored."

Hammer gulped. "They're..." He glanced between the two of them and sagged in his chair. "In an underground facility in northern Michigan," he confessed. "Outside of Skanee, middle of nowhere. We'd been conducting our own Arc research there for years without getting anywhere." He wiped sweat off his brow. "But it's all been shut down. If you start putting juice back in that place someone is going to notice right away. It takes a small fortune just to keep it running."

"You need an alternate source of power, then," said Loki, casting a significant look at Johanna.

She lowered her gun. "We need information on S.H.I.E.L.D.."

"I have connections," Hammer said quickly. "I'll find a way, but..." A shadow fell over his face. "It's Stark you want."

"Stark," Loki echoed.

"Tony Stark, the Iron Man," Johanna explained. She straightened. "If Stark is working with S.H.I.E.L.D. now, he'll know where the Tesseract is. No one has a better chance of understanding it than him."

"No mortal could ever truly comprehend the Tesseract," said Loki. "But if he is the one they will turn to..." His heart skipped. "We must return to the city."

Johanna shoved her pistol into the back of her belt. "It will take time to have our equipment relocated to the new facility. I can send my scientists ahead, and keep a team with us here to handle Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D." She looked to Hammer. "You will give me the coordinates. There are more of us, across the country and overseas, that will come when I ask them to."

"You're not..." Hammer rubbed his face with both hands. "You're not listening. If you power that facility up the feds are going to be on to you _immediately_. But hey, what's the worst that can happen, huh?" He dropped his chin into his palm. "At least I can honestly say I'm a hostage this time instead of an accomplice."

"You will give her the coordinates," said Loki. "The rest, I'll handle myself."

Hammer was given food, and left in the room with a guard at the door. "He can't be trusted," said Johanna. "Once he's outlived his usefulness, I'll kill him myself."

"You will do nothing without my permission," replied Loki. "I will judge if he is useful or not. For now, we need only concern ourselves with the Tesseract. It is all that matters."

"Yes, Lord Loki."

He left her, seeking solitude at the edge of the encampment as he often had over the past several days. From his rooftop vantage he surveyed his accomplices: weak, all of them, but increasingly loyal to him. They would possibly be a little help.

It was his own power that impressed him. He held his hands out in front of him, stretching and curling his fingers. His magic had taken time to replenish but his patience had been rewarded; he could feel fresh power crackling under his skin like avalanche waves. However great an ordeal his journey through the cosmos had been, he had come out the other side more powerful than ever. His spirit was hardened and his will had never been stronger.

And now, the revelation of Steve Rogers. It changed everything. Loki burned with curiosity, and for a moment even the need of the Tesseract fell behind.

"I must know," he thought aloud. "It could be some trick." His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched at the thought. "Some trap of Odin's, to lower my guard. I must be sure."

He looked to the sky. There was still no indication of Heimdall's all-seeing eyes, and Loki squashed the bitter part of him that longed for it. "No--Odin doesn't know I live. He's not even looking." He took in a deep breath and stretched out on his back for a brief rest. "No matter. It doesn't matter... But I must be sure." He closed his eyes, drawing forth the memory of the soldier that had so boldly challenged him. "I must know."

***

In the end, Fury's idea of punishment was exactly what Steve wanted. After a strict debriefing Steve was sent directly back to the gym under the care of the best trainers S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer. They put him to task learning what they called "modern" hand to hand combat techniques. Steve wasn't entirely convinced of their effectiveness but he was a model student, telling himself it was defensive training as much as anything else. It wasn't until they took a break for water that Steve even remembered his aching forearms and knees.

Next was weaponry with Agent Coulson, to Steve's approval. They sampled all kinds of equipment, from combat gear to blades to firearms. Coulson promised Steve a new uniform but Steve was more concerned with the knowhow. He knew guns but each new model deserved time and attention in order for him to learn their balance, their kicks, their advantages. By eight o'clock Steve was starving and his brain was crammed full, but at least he had clearance to the armory and a stocked locker to his name.

The cafeteria was mostly empty by the time Steve made it there. He piled up on what food was left and was just sitting down to eat it when the door opened, and Tony and Natasha walked in. They spotted him and immediately headed over.

Steve watched somewhat warily as Tony dropped into the seat across from him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"You're still on punishment," Natasha said with a hint of a smile. "And Mr. Stark's on an official S.H.I.E.L.D. assignment to be your technology mentor."

"That's what we get for sticking our necks out today," said Tony.

"I'll leave you to it." But before Natasha left she turned to Steve with greater seriousness. "You did good work today, Rogers."

Steve blinked up at her, thinking momentarily that he ought to be detecting sarcasm, but she was sincere. He smiled. "Thanks."

"And I know he didn't say it properly himself, so I'll say it," she added. "Thank you. For helping Agent Barton."

Tony raised an eyebrow but remained wisely silent. "It's all right," said Steve. "I was just..." The pride that welled in his chest was almost a foreign sensation to him, he'd been waiting so long, and he savored it. "Just doing my job."

Natasha nodded, and a moment of understanding passed between them--she knew what it meant to him. With a clap to his shoulder she moved on.

Steve continued to eat. Tony watched him, blank-faced, clearly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "So. Rogers."

Steve gulped down his orange juice. "Mr. Stark."

It took Tony another minute to figure out what came next. "Well, I'm not sure I can catch you up on half a century of technology in one night, but we can start here." He slid a phone across the table. "This is for you. I dumbed it down some, to make it easier on you."

"...Thanks." Steve drew it closer and still wasn't sure he could make sense of it. Green meant on, that much he could tell. A screen flashed up with commands labeled in bold, easily legible letters.

"I put in the important numbers already," Tony explained. "The base, some local authorities, a few of the agents here. It'll respond to your voice, too: just tell it 'call whoever' and it'll dial for you. Just make sure you charge it every night."

"Charge it?"

"Yeah...right." He scratched the back of his neck. "I'll get you a charger, too."

Steve slipped the phone into his pocket. "Mr. Stark, I appreciate this, but I'm not sure how much I'm really going to be using this stuff."

"Oh?" Tony leaned back, his arms crossed.

"I can work a radio," said Steve. "I can shoot a gun. I can drive a car if I have to, a tank if I _really_ have to. The rest I'm happy to leave to people like you."

"People like me?" he repeated.

"I don't mean any offense."

Tony pursed his lips. "So...you plan on finding these HYDRA people and just...punching them. And maybe shooting them. Or running them over with a tank, if you happen to find one."

"Yes," Steve replied simply. "It worked last time."

"Actually," said Tony, wagging a finger at him, "it _didn't_ , did it? They're kind of still here."

Steve's eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond, so Tony continued. "In fact, I got to see some of your file. So driving a tank is okay for you, but planes..." He winced. "Not so much, huh?"

Steve put his fork down. "The way I see it," Tony went on, "you might have found a way out of that one if only you'd known a little bit more about technology. Like how to disengage an autopilot. Or disarm an explosive, or reprogram a missile lock-on..."

"As a soldier I know how to do a lot of things," Steve said carefully. "But not everything. No one can."

Tony smirked. "I can. Thanks to..." He spread his hands in a sweeping, sarcastic gesture. "Technology."

Steve pushed his tray aside--his entire dinner seemed to turning to lead in his gut. "If that's true why aren't you an official member of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Tony wilted a little, though he tried to hide it. He waved dismissively. "I don't have the time. Chain of command isn't really my thing, anyway. I've done a lot more good just on my own."

"Such as?" Steve prompted.

"Hm?" Tony stared blankly back. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding." Steve mirrored the folded-arm posture Tony had adopted against him earlier. "What have you done?"

Tony was momentarily speechless, and when he jarred back to life with a shake of his head and stern hand gestures. "Okay, remembering that you literally _have_ lived in a cave the past forty years...did you not see me today? In a red and gold robot suit _flying_ into the side of your helicopter?"

"And I'm grateful," said Steve. "You saved our lives."

"Yes, exactly."

"So what else have you done?"

Again, Tony was too stunned to answer immediately. "Just so we're clear...they didn't have flying robot men in WWII, right?"

Steve packed the remnants of his dinner back onto his tray. "Thank you for the phone, Mr. Stark. I'm sure I'll figure it out."

"No, wait." When Steve got up from the table to bus his tray, Tony chased after him. "Wait, Rogers," he said, and when Steve paused, expecting sincerity, what he got was, "Are you not even going to ask how it works? What it's capable of, how you can get one? Because I'm sorry, you really--"

"Not interested," Steve said on his way out.

"Okay, you got me back, good for you." Tony didn't give up the chase, though. "But give me a break, Rogers. Fury made it my job to make sure you're caught up on at least some of this stuff; you don't have to bust my balls over it."

"If you can think of something I might actually use," said Steve, "I'll listen."

Tony struggled to keep up with Steve's long gait. He looked intensely thoughtful, honestly trying to think of something that Steve wouldn't be able to refute. He was a mystery to Steve. Howard had possessed an attitude and a charm that Steve would never have, but he was always straightforward, uncomplicated--at least as far as Steve had known him. Tony had too much going on in his head. It was all in his eyes and it reminded Steve of the technology he was advocating: too many working parts that were impossible to make out when so openly exposed.

Tony snapped his fingers. "I've got it."

Back in Steve's room, Tony booted up the government-provided laptop that Steve hadn't looked at twice since moving in. He showed Steve how to use the cursor, had to jab at Steve's finger to get him to double-click properly, and at last opened the program he was so eager to show off. Colored letters on a white background blinked at them.

"Google," said Tony triumphantly. "You can use it to find anything on the internet."

Steve was unimpressed. "The what?"

"The...look, just type something in the box, okay?" 

Tony typed in CAPTAIN AMERICA. Two clicks later the screen was full of pictures of old comic book covers, even a few black and white photos from the war. Steve leaned forward, his eyes jumping from one tiny picture to the next. When Tony showed him how to enlarge he went down the row clicking each one. His smile was mostly wince. "How are these all here?"

"Technically, they're not," said Tony. "They're being pulled from all sorts of personal and professional web sites, posted by academics, fans..." When he noticed Steve's strained expression he lowered his voice respectfully. "Think of it like...a very large bulletin board, where anyone can post anything they feel like posting, and all you have to do is say what you're looking for. Then you can decide for yourself what you feel like learning."

"Anything?" Steve repeated.

"Yeah." Tony shifted on his feet. "Look, I have to get back into the city before Pepper sends out a search party, but if you run into trouble you can call me. My number's in that phone."

"All right." Steve's fingers hovered over the keys. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

Tony showed himself out. As soon as the door closed behind him Steve pecked out a name.

***

When Steve didn't come down to breakfast the next morning, Jane took it upon herself to find him. She'd taken a lot upon herself the past week as concerned Steve--helping to acclimate him to the twenty-first century helped distract her from her own floundering in the unfamiliar, military environment. He was pleasant company, polite and sincere and, when she was willing to admit it, he reminded her of someone else she was missing.

"Steve?" She shifted the brown paper bag in her arms so she could knock on his door. "Are you in there?"

"Come in!"

Jane sighed. Some things he refused to pick up on. "I can't until you use your key card."

A minute later the door opened, and Jane's morning smile drooped at the sight of him: he was still dressed in his clothing from the day before and there were hints of circles under his eyes. "What happened to you?" she asked as he let her in. "You look like you didn't sleep."

Steve frowned in confusion and looked to the clock. "Oh. I didn't realize what time it was." He rubbed his eyes and stretched his shoulders with a groan. "I guess I was up all night."

"Doing what?" When Jane noticed the open laptop she snuck over and let out a groan. "Who showed you Wikipedia?"

"Agent Hill helped me make an account," Steve grumbled, tossing fresh clothes onto the bed. "But they keep rejecting my edits."

Jane scrolled to the top of the open page: battles of World War II. "I'm guessing they wouldn't accept 'personal experience' as a reliable source?" she said, trying not to grin. She passed him the brown paper bag. "Here--I brought you breakfast."

"Thank you." Steve thumped into the desk chair and helped himself to the contents. "I know I'm not supposed to tell anyone where--when--I'm from, but it would make things a lot easier."

Jane clicked through a few more tabs of various Wikipedia entries, Google search results, history pages and timelines. One was a Youtube video of nuclear bombs being detonated. "I see you've been catching up," she said quietly.

Steve glanced up from peeling the orange Jane had brought him. "Yeah." He shook his head. "Hard to imagine Howard with his hands on something like that."

The last two tabs were modern news sites, and Jane couldn't help but wince at the gruesome war photos plastered across the banners, juxtaposed with stories on celebrity diets and the popularity of pet Twitters. "You know," she said, "sometimes I look around at the world, and I have no idea how we got here. And I've been living it. I can't imagine what it's been like for you."

Steve shook his head again. He looked exhausted, from more than being up all night staring at a computer screen. She touched his shoulder. "Hey. We're getting out of the base tonight. Go into town, grab a beer. Think you're up to sneaking out one more time?"

Steve made a doubtful face, but Jane turned back to the computer and closed all the open windows. "Come on, it'll be fun. And I guarantee, drinking hasn't changed in the last however many years."

His lip quirked, and he at last relented. "I'll think about it."

"Good. And no more Wikipedia." Jane flashed him a smile and headed out. "I'll catch up with you after dinner, all right? Tell Agent Coulson to get you something nice to wear. I'm sure he'll be able to whip something up."

"All right, all right." When she glanced back she was relieved to see him looking lighter. "I'll be ready."

***

"I can't be here," Hammer groaned the entire way into Manhattan. "This is just...it's stupid, really. What is the point of breaking out of prison and then coming right back? They're probably going to shoot me."

Hammer sank as far down into the back seat as it would allow him. He had not stopped wriggling and jabbering and itching since the first moment that Loki met him, and it was a wonder he was still alive. Johanna's promise to put him out of their misery as soon as possible was looking ever more tempting. "Stop fussing," Loki grumbled as he watched the cars and buildings blur past. "This vehicle is protected. As long as you remain inside it you have nothing to worry about."

"I thought we'd at least be coming with some guns." Hammer craned his neck to peek out through the side window. "You're not seriously going to storm Stark Tower by yourself, are you? That was some fancy shooting yesterday, but the place is practically a fortress." He plucked at his borrowed shirt for the umpteenth time. "Shouldn't Schmidt be here?"

"I don't trust her," said Loki. He glanced to the rearview mirror and caught their driver, Synthia, looking back. "She's too eager to start a fight. Tonight I'm only here to gather information."

Hammer made a face. "But you trust... _me_?"

"I trust that you're too much of a coward to leave this vehicle, under threat of being recaptured," he replied sharply.

"Well. Fair enough."

Hammer pulled a smart phone out of his pocket and began to fiddle with it. "Got it from Dr. Wader," he explained without being asked. "Thought it might come in handy. Do they have stuff like this where you're from?" A sly smile crept across his face. "I bet it's pretty darn slick. Oh, wait, hold on."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes?"

"Checking out the Tony Stark hash tag, and what do you know? He's not at home tonight." Hammer showed him the screen but it meant nothing to Loki. "Ambergirl225 Tweeted: 'Just saw T-Stark at Unlimited. Sooooo hot. Will get pix.'" He rolled his eyes. "Young people."

Loki glared until Hammer understood that he was meant to explain. "It's a bar," he said. "Further uptown. Probably a lot easier to get to him there than at the tower." He leaned between the seats with his hand outstretched. "Pass me the GPS; I'll pop the address in."

"A bar," Loki repeated. It took him a beat to remember it meant _tavern_ , and he frowned thoughtfully. He was very well-versed in the ways a good wine could loosen a man's tongue, and his resolve. "It might be worth investigating."

Hammer finished with the GPS and went back to his phone. "And, as promised, pics," he sighed. "Not wearing the David August this time, hm? So he's got more than one suit after all. You'd think he could find something better to put Pepper in than--ahh, hold on, hold on."

"What?" Loki snapped.

"It's your friend." 

Hammer turned the phone toward him again, and despite the tiny display Loki was able to make out a familiar blond man in one corner of the picture. Heat swelled in his chest. "The soldier..."

"And Col. Rhodes," said Hammer with a grimace. "Quite a little party. Sure you're going in there? Both those guys must have gotten a good look at your face."

Loki closed his eyes in an attempt to preserve his patience. "Eventually you will learn who you are dealing with, Justin Hammer," he muttered.

They stopped down the street from the supposed "Unlimited," and Loki considered his options. A disguise was a must, and as he breathed slowly in and out, he was certain his magic was up to the task. In fact he felt as if his skin were already pulling away from his bones, ready to remake itself. His inspiration came from his memory--a trick that had, at the time, offered amusement for weeks afterwards. He couldn't bear to dwell on it anymore.

The spell was complicated, but he had performed it many times. With his hands pressed together he let the magic seep through him, from the top of his head, through muscle and sinew down his torso, into his legs and feet. Chilling fingers remade him, smoothing his features and physique, until his angles were replaced with curves and a sleek, female form was nestled into the leather seat next to Hammer.

Hammer gaped. Hair and clothing were last and when they were finished, he blinked several times up and down Loki's body and settled with his gaze firmly on Loki's new bosom, artfully concealed beneath the drapings of a flowy red dress. "Whoa..." He rubbed his mouth. "Is that...an illusion? Or are they...is it real?"

Loki combed his fingers through his hair, letting it spill down the side of his bare collar. It took some fussing to make it fall as he wanted, along with rearranging his dress to better match the style of the women on the sidewalks. "Synthia," he said, "I require your...sack."

"Purse," Synthia corrected gently as she passed it obediently back.

"Purse." Loki peeked at the contents but they were of little interest to him. When he realized Hammer was still staring, he took him by the chin and turned his attention back to the phone. "Find that image you showed me earlier," he instructed. "Of our battle yesterday."

"It's called _Youtube_." Hammer rubbed his chin and might have blushed as he tapped at the phone. He continuously cast glances Loki's way, sometimes appreciating but eventually scrutinizing, and Loki's patience frayed a little further. 

"What is it?"

"Don't you think red's kind of played out?" Hammer said dryly.

Loki glared, but after some consideration he concentrated; the dress's color changed from red to white. Hammer watched, his eyes again wide, but once it had finished he shook his head again. "Blue," he suggested. "Stark likes blue."

"One might wonder why you know that," Loki muttered as he changed the hue once more, though reluctantly. When he looked down at the dress he realized that tiny, swirling shapes had embossed themselves into the fabric without his guidance. He brushed them out with his fingers. "Is that satisfactory?" he asked with a sternness that indicated there was only one correct answer.

"Beautiful." Hammer handed him the phone.

Loki tapped on the screen; he had gained a serviceable knowledge of the "cell phone" device since coming to Midgard, enough that he was able to play through the video. His eyes narrowed on the blurred, bobbing figure of Steve Rogers atop the semi-truck. It could not be him, but it could hardly be anyone else. Loki's heart beat a little faster as he finished his preparations and reached for the door handle.

"Wait." Hammer grabbed his arm, and Loki was tempted to break it if not for the serious looking suddenly crossing Hammer's face. "If you find Stark in there...are you going to hurt him?" he asked, his tone lowered.

Loki frowned back at him. "Why?"

"If you do..." Hammer licked his lips. "Bring him out here first. Where I can see."

Loki's eyes narrowed, but he nodded, and Hammer let him go as he slipped out of the car.

***

Despite Jane's reassurance, a night out drinking in the twenty-first century was a very different affair from what Steve was used to. The bar--club--was dark, loud, and bustling. The music was pulsing and synthetic. The booth he and his party shared in the corner was a hub of activity, with men and women sidling over, introducing themselves, clinking drinks and wandering off. All things considered, however, Steve was having a more than decent time of it.

He was nestled into the corner of a plush sofa, Jane and her work colleague Erik Selvig on one side, Pepper, Tony, and their guest Col. Rhodes on the other. Being sandwiched between a pair of women was awkward at first, but Jane was so easy-going and Pepper so gracious (and so attached to Tony) that they put him quickly at ease. Tony was much as Steve had become accustomed to, all pomp and sarcasm, but meeting fellow soldier Rhodes was a breath of fresh air.

"Yes, it's an obligation, but it's not just about that," Rhodes was saying, buzzed and animated, a bottle in his hand. "It's about respect. Chain of command isn't just ceremony, it's necessary. And it's not funny, either," he said when Tony smothered a grin. "Even the ant men know that, ain't that right, Rogers?"

Steve sipped his beer--it may not have had the same effects it once had, but it did help him feel more normal. "From the air, we all look the same," he explained for Jane's benefit. "But I'd rather have my feet on the ground than my ass in the air."

Rhodes laughed, and they clinked bottles. Tony shook his head at them. "Seventy years later and you military boys are still in the same slap-fight," he admonished. "With the same lines."

"See, you don't get that, either," said Rhodes. "Tradition. He spits in my shoe, I piss in his coke. That's how wars get won."

"I think maybe it's time to cut Rhodey off," laughed Pepper, but Steve waved her down.

"No, let him," he said. "He's making me look better and better."

"I'm not sure I'm ever going to understand you soldier types," said Jane. "No offence."

"Better not to try." Tony pointed between the two men. "They'll be obsolete soon enough anyway."

Steve groaned and pushed to his feet. He had already heard this conversation try to start twice over the course of the evening, and sure enough, Rhodes immediately jumped in. Not wanting to have his mood soured, Steve excused himself to order them another round and headed for the bar.

He ordered another set of drinks and some more food to be put on Tony's tab. As he waited he glanced around the club, wincing afresh at the pulsing music and scantily clad bodies moving through the smoke. He wasn't sure he could ever call the new century home, but it wasn't quite as bad as he'd originally thought.

Someone was perched on a stool next to him: a woman who hadn't been there when he'd walked up. She was tall, her long, smooth back visible between the low cut of her indigo dress and the wave of black hair trailing past her shoulders. Her posture was straight but easy, her slender hands delicately folded on the bar. There was something quieter in her demeanor than that of the other girls populating the club. Maybe it was just because she was alone. When she turned toward him Steve was momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of her dark hazel eyes, blinking up at him amidst her soft-featured, curl-framed face.

"Hello," she said, her voice accented--European. Northern European? It was hard to tell in the club.

Steve smiled politely. "Hello."

She continued to watch him. Steve tried not to fidget, but she was beautiful and clearly intent on studying him. After some moments she said, "I've seen you, haven't I?"

Steve's heart gave a foolish leap that he quickly admonished it for. "I...don't think so," he said carefully. "I haven't been here before."

The woman pulled a phone out of her purse. Some taps later she showed it off to him. "Isn't this you?"

Steve leaned forward and was stunned: the phone was playing a video clip of him grappling on the top of the HYDRA van from the day before. It wasn't a clear image, as if it had been taken through glass, Though jumpy and incomplete Steve recognized every instant of the videoed exchange. "What is this?" he asked urgently. "Where did you get this?"

"It's on the internet," she said. "My...friend showed me earlier." She cocked her head to the side. "So? Is that you?"

Steve wiped his mouth and glanced back to the booth. "How many people have seen that?"

She looked at the phone again. "Some fifty-thousand, I gather." She tucked it back into her purse. "They say everyone has a phone with a camera these days. Someone on the highway that day must have captured it."

Steve leaned against the bar as his mind whirled. "I didn't realize it was that easy," he murmured. He had thought that such an encounter would be strictly confidential; even his nightly adventure on the internet had not acclimated him completely to its inner workings, apparently. When he realized that the woman was still watching him expectantly, he admitted, "Yes. That's me."

It wasn't the right thing to do, he was sure, but that concern faded in the face of her reaction. She sat even straighter, her focus grew more intense. Something curious and almost hopeful curled in the corner of her eyes and lips. "That was rather bold of you," she said, "intervening like that."

"It's...um." Steve cleared his throat. "Just doing my job."

"You should be more careful. Civilians could have been hurt because of it."

Steve frowned. " _They_ were the ones breaking the law," he said. "I'll do everything I can to keep civilians safe, but sometimes it's out of my hands."

She blinked slowly. "Show me."

"What?"

"Your hands." The woman held out one of hers and motioned for him to do the same. "Show me."

Steve hesitated; his gut was telling him something was off, she couldn't be trusted, but he held his hand out anyway. His body tensed long before she touched him, and when she did, the gentle pressure of her cool fingers clasping his wrist sent goose bumps up his arm. With a quiet hum she trailed her fingertips over his palm, tracing the indentations, the calluses, and Steve felt an inexplicable _pull_ at the soft tissue beneath his ribs. His chest swelled and his pulse hitched as if those dainty fingertips were tickling the web of veins and arteries beneath his skin. A tremor worked through him and when the woman let go, smiling serenely, he was uncharacteristically breathless.

"I don't know," she said. Though her words were laced with innuendo, her expression was calm and sincere. "It looks to me like these hands could hold a great deal."

Steve withdrew his hand, his fingers curling involuntarily as if she had wounded him. "Who are you?"

The bartender set out the fresh round he had ordered; the clinking bottles caused Steve to startle as if coming out of a trance, and his ears filled anew with the chatter of patrons and hissing of speakers. "I'll have the waitress bring your food over when it's ready," he said.

"Thanks." Steve gathered the bottles up he looked to the woman. She was still watching him. "Excuse me. My friends are waiting."

"Take care of yourself," she replied and then turned back toward the bar.

Steve was hard pressed not to look back as he returned to the booth. He had barely started passing out the alcohol when everyone came at him at once.

"Who was that?" Jane asked immediately. "Wow, she's pretty."

Once Steve's hands were free, Erik took the one that the woman had scrutinized and turned it toward him. "Hmm, I don't see a number," he teased.

Steve flushed. "She's no one. That is, I don't know her. We were just saying hello."

"Looked like more than 'hello' from over here," joined Pepper.

And of course, it was Tony who enthusiastically added, "What the hell are you doing? Invite her over here. Look--she's wishing you would."

Steve did look back and caught the woman watching them. She didn't avert her gaze as quickly as Steve thought she ought. "I...don't know," he stammered. "She's a little..." He could still feel the tingle behind his sternum, dipping into his stomach. Not unlike a memory that was, for him, still fairly fresh. He shook his head. "She's not my type."

"How could you be so selfish?" said Tony. "We've got two more single men here."

"She might be my type," Rhodes agreed. "But it's hard to see from here--tell her to come over."

"And I think Foster just said she's interested--"

Jane's cheeks went red. "I didn't mean it like that--"

"She's drinking alone," said Pepper. "How can a proper gentleman allow that?"

Their encouragements began to drown each other out, and with a sigh Steve relented. "All right, I'll..." He shook his head and turned. "I'll ask her."

Steve made his way back to the bar. He probably should have told them that he'd never done anything like this before, but then, he wasn't sure what Tony would do with ammunition like that. So he took a deep breath and tried not to falter when the woman glanced over her shoulder and spotted him. She turned on her stool and waited patiently as if having known all along that he would be back.

"Hi," Steve said awkwardly and smiled.

"Hello." She didn't smile--her eyes were heavy on him as if expecting something.

"Um, I don't know if this is too forward of me, but you're not here alone, are you?"

"I was planning on meeting someone," she said, fingering the stem of her glass. "But they had to cancel."

"In that case..." Steve glanced back to the booth: Tony and Rhodes were already back in a heated conversation, but Pepper and Jane had their eyes glued to the scene and were gesturing encouragements. Another deep breath. "Would you like to join us? If nothing else, Mr. Stark is picking up the tab for the whole table, so..."

When she smiled it was subtle, both inviting and a bit mischievous. "I'd like that," she said, offering her hand.

Steve took it and was surprised all over again by how cool her fingers were. He reasoned it must have been from holding her drink. "I'm Steve, by the way," he introduced as he led her from the bar. "Steve Rogers."

Her hand tensed against his with the introduction. "Lori," she replied. "My name is Lori."

Everyone shifted around the booth so that Steve and Lori could sit together on the end. They introduced themselves, and Lori's attention lingered on Tony Stark after they'd shaken hands. "Mr. Stark," she said, her eyes flicking to his chest. "I understand you're quite the figure, here in...America."

"And elsewhere," said Pepper proudly. She gave his knee a squeeze. "Iron Man's been known all over the world for a while now."

"If only he could _be_ all over the world," snorted Rhodes.

Tony turned to him; they were both clearly determined to argue the matter to its conclusion, regardless of company. "You need to let go of this jealousy, Rhodey," he said. "It's a really ugly side of you."

"And you _know_ that's not what I mean," Rhodes countered. "Don't tell me we have to go through this all over again."

Lori frowned between them in confusion, so Erik took it upon himself to explain. "Col. Rhodes is still upset with Mr. Stark for abandoning the weapons development aspect of his business," he said, as if it were common knowledge.

"It only comes up when he's drunk," added Tony irritably.

Rhodes jabbed at him with his finger. "You left us with _Hammer_. I know you _think_ Iron Man is world-peace on a plate but we're still fighting a war, and you left us, with _Hammer_. And now even _he_ is gone."

"Can you believe him?" Tony uncapped one of the fresh bottles Steve had brought. "As if I haven't done enough."

Steve clenched his jaw. It was pointless to argue with drunken men, and especially with a stranger--a woman--at his side that he had supposedly invited over for a peaceful drink, but he felt Rhodes' frustration. "Iron Man is impressive," he said. "But it _isn't_ enough. It can't protect the whole world."

"So you both think I should just go back to making bombs," said Tony, growing ever more brittle. "Missiles and tanks and things that go boom, so you can keep blowing each other up."

"Tony," Pepper tried to quiet him.

"No, that's bullshit." Tony turned his vehemence abruptly on Steve. "Weapons fall into the wrong hands. Hammer proved that for us. With Iron Man, that can't happen. It's not a weapon--it's not a soldier. It's something different and it's what this world needs."

"And yet there is only one," said Lori, swiftly gathering everyone's attention. "Isn't that so?"

Erik gestured for her to stay quiet. "This is exactly what they--"

"And there only needs to be one," Tony insisted. "And that one is _me_. There's nothing that can beat it so why does everyone keep insisting that I should give it up? It's working."

Lori smiled. "Nothing that can beat it?"

"Just try it," Tony challenged. "Come on , name _one_ weapon that is more efficient, more effective than Iron Man, right now, today."

"This."

Lori took Steve by the wrist and tugged it forward, displaying his open palm to the group. "A suit made of iron can defend from missiles and tanks," she said, "but it is a soldier's will that wins wars. I would trust the hands of a bold soldier over anything your science can produce, Mr. Stark."

Tony leaned back, and though he appeared to be rallying a response while everyone else exchanged glances, he abandoned it. With a sly smile he tipped his bottle toward her in a salute. "Well. I won't argue that."

Rhodes joined back in, agreeing wholeheartedly while still trying to make his point, but Steve was no longer interested. He looked to Lori, who continued to smile almost secretively as she drew Steve's hand back. She laced their fingers and held his hand between them as Pepper and Jane turned the conversation back to less controversial topics.

He had no idea what to make of her. During the short time between taking Dr. Erskine's serum and his transfer to the front lines he had experienced more attention from the fairer sex than the entire rest of his life combined, but that had consisted almost entirely of flirtation from afar: a coy smile, a blown kiss, sometimes a tentative squeeze to his biceps. He had never sat and drank with a woman, warmed by her body nestling into his. He had never been so close as to smell her hair every time she turned to speak to him. His hand felt huge and hot and bear-like around hers, and he expected that at any moment she would let him go, ease him away. She didn't. Even Peggy, for all Steve imagined they fancied each other, had never relaxed so much in his presence, with such easy, open physicality.

For a time it was almost unbearably uncomfortable, but Lori didn't frown at him with confusion and sympathy when Steve didn't understand a reference in the conversation. She didn't question his ignorance, didn't choose and rephrase her remarks for him the way everyone else did lately. She was close, and real, and attentive. Whenever she spoke close to his ear, her breath tickling his skin, he was able to forget for a while that he was alone in a world where he didn't belong. As the evening wore on he was even half convinced that the alcohol was finally working. His stomach warmed, his face flushed, and with every squeeze to his palm he felt a little less clear, as if the bar were smearing into a pleasant tingle of lights and shadows around them.

Tony paid the tab, as he'd promised, and as they all gathered outside the club he turned to Lori. "You know, you _were_ agreeing with me earlier," he said, managing not to sound as intoxicated as he looked. "It's not the weapon--it's the man using it."

"It is," Lori agreed. She poked him in the chest with two fingers, and Tony tried to lean away without looking like he was. "But are you the right man to be using it, Mr. Stark? I would still rather trust a soldier."

"Yeah. I can see why." He cast a suggestive look in Steve's direction, and then he and Pepper bid their farewells before ducking into a waiting car.

She turned back to Steve, and he blushed, struggling for words that wouldn't make him sound and feel like a gangly teenager again. "I'm glad you agreed to join us," he said.

"So am I." She stared at him, almost unblinking. "I'd like to see you again."

He covered his surprise well. "So would I," he quickly agreed. "But I don't know when I'll be able to get off base again. Maybe we can..." He patted down his pockets and found the cell phone Tony had given him. "I can call you. If you'll, um, give me your number."

Lori dug into her purse and had to rummage about until turning up her phone. "I'm...not certain what number this is," she admitted with a frown. "It is not...it's new."

Steve jabbed at his phone as well. "Actually, I don't know what my number is, either."

Thankfully Jane and Erik were waiting, and between the four of them they were able to figure out the numbers on both phones and exchange them. "We'll get a cab," Erik offered when they'd finished. "We'll be...right over there, when you're ready to head back."

Steve grinned sheepishly. "Thank you," he told Lori once the pair had moved away. "For sticking up for me like you did."

Lori took his hand. She pressed two fingers into his palm and he felt it again: that eager, and yet ominous tingle spreading through his chest. He breathed in deep and when her fingertips all converged on his middle finger, circling and stroking the digit to its tip, something heated and much more familiar dipped into his abdomen.

"I know soldiers," Lori said, fixated on his hand and the attention she was paying it. "I come from a family that values service over almost all else. Not all of them I can speak well of, but that only means I better understand the worth of a good soldier." She met his eyes. "Are you a good soldier, Steve Rogers?"

Steve found his breath suddenly hard to come by. "I try to be."

She smiled--not the bright, flashing grin some women had fixed him with, but it was soft, and somehow hopeful. She was still a mystery to him. "I know you'll succeed," she said, turning her hand to present her knuckles to him.

It was old-fashioned even for him, but Steve lifted her hand for a kiss all the same. "I'll call you," he said, and he realized with a strange sensation that it was the first time he could say that. "For dinner."

"I'll be waiting." Lori slipped her hand out of his and turned, her high heels tapping out her steps down the sidewalk.

Steve almost called her back, thinking it best to offer her a ride, but she turned the corner and was swiftly gone. He could still feel the imprints of her fingers around his as he rejoined Erik and Jane at the curb.

***

By the time Loki slipped back into the car he was male once more, to Hammer's apparent disappointment. He told Synthia to drive on and nestled into the back seat. Excitement hummed through him and he pressed his hands together, deep in thought. He could still feel the pull--the swell of power he had hoped but not expected to feel from his long-lost creation. Some part of Steve Rogers remembered where he had come from, even longed for reconnection. 

"He's alive," Loki murmured, green eyes gleaming blindly at the space in front of him. "He's alive and I must have him."

Hammer peered at him quizzically. "Stark?"

"No, fool." Loki grinned behind his fingertips. "Captain America."

Hammer continued to stare blankly. "Is that...a cereal?"

Loki was too pleased with himself to be irritated. "This changes everything," he said to himself. "The Tesseract...yes, still vital. But with a soldier like Captain America..." He side-eyed Hammer. "Apparently his reputation has lapsed. That can be remedied, so long as he stands with me."

"Who are you talking about?" asked Synthia.

Loki shook himself. "Not your concern," he said. "But we will have to lodge somewhere in the city for a time." 

Hammer shifted impatiently. "But were you able to get anything out of Stark?"

The reminder drew Loki's attention swiftly to him. "You did not tell me he carried an Arc Reactor on his person," he accused. The smell of its energy was so familiar he had even been fooled at first into thinking that Stark bore a sliver of the Tesseract itself. "Far more advanced than the one Schmidt was building."

"Oh, yeah." Hammer smiled sheepishly. "Slipped my mind? He uses it to power his Iron Man suit. But there's a rumor." He squirmed closer and lowered his voice. "They say he's got one keeping him alive. Ahh? Pretty freaky, if you ask me."

Loki allowed himself a moment to be impressed. If the Midgardians had progressed to the point in which they were subsisting on generated energy, they deserved more attention than he had been giving. "I can easily see now why you rejected Schimidt and her scientists," he mused. "Their technology was advanced for their day, but it is nothing to what Tony Stark has created. You are fortunate that he does not yet seem to realize its potential."

Synthia was watching him through the mirror again, but he gave it little notice. She could report anything she liked to Johanna but it would make no difference; HYDRA had no choice but to follow his lead. They would do more than thank him by the end, he was sure of it.

With the Tesseract, with Steve Rogers, he could be untouchable. He could be a god and, better yet, a king. He could make Midgard a proper realm of the cosmos. To be lord of a world of mortals was not the highest honor a former prince of Asgard could earn for himself, but once he had done it, not even Odin would be able to think poorly of him. 

His creation was the key. Mere coincidence alone had not drawn them together, of that he was certain, and as they continued through the city he thought of nothing else.

***

Steve didn't stop thinking of Lori the entire way back to the base. His stomach was in knots and he tried to tell himself that he was at best being foolish, and at worst was betraying the memory of love too recently lost. It had only been the night before that online obituaries revealed to him the fate of Peggy Carter, and all others that had once fought beside him. _Not so difficult to find a partner, after all,_ she would say if she could see him then. He should have been ashamed.

But even after having not slept the night before, after spending all day carrying out Fury's "punishment" in the gym and around the base and in the armory, when Steve collapsed into bed she was still all he could think about. His mind's eye was saturated with dark waves tickling his shoulders, a curved hip settled close to his, even the fleeting sensation of her breast against his arm when she adjusted her grip on his hand. And her hands--more than anything the caress of her too-cool fingers, tracing the lifelines carved into his palm and the delicate skin between his knuckles. The way she had pinched his blunt fingers, stroking from the meat of his hand down to his fingertips, then back up, down and up, down and up, coaxing, inviting, her red lips subtly parting...

Steve fumbled his pants open. Guilt still hung at the rear of his brain but that didn't stop him from shoving his briefs down with one hand while the other hurried to his cock. The memory of Lori's touch had already fueled him half hard and it took only a few rough pulls to get him the rest of the way. With eyes pressed shut he worked up and down in swift, tight strokes that sent electricity into his abdomen and a lump into his throat.

He remembered the mysterious intensity with which she had watched him. He remembered the ease in which she had nestled into him, as if they were old companions relaxing into a lumpy sofa at a friend's basement party back home. He remembered the silk in her voice and the dip of her waist. He didn't need to fantasize, because he still remembered the _pull_ in his chest, the sensation of her sinking into him, drawing him out, welcoming him to a home that was _her_. It made no sense but it was under his skin and he wanted her hands on him again.

He wanted her. It wasn't the innocent fluttering of butterflies of his youth that drove his fist through each eager pump over his cock. It was lust, simple and carnal, so unlike anything he had expected to feel in his new world of ghosts. She had looked up at him with sin in her eyes, touching him--he was certain he hadn't imagined her body swaying toward his. He dug his heels into the mattress and thrust with his hips, daring to dream that she could be with him, her warm, ripe body wrapping him up. His pace sped but her face in his mind never changed. He made love to her in fantasy and she stared straight back, her hands gliding over his, down his straining arms, into his chest, his stomach, pulsing all through him.

Steve clamped his free hand over his mouth, smothering each shameful groan as he came over his stomach and fingers. The sweat cooling off his skin reminded him eerily of sheets of ice shattering against the point of each prickling goose bump. For long minutes he continued to touch himself, stroking out every drop until oversensitivity made his stomach catch and almost heave with every whisper of his fingertips. Finally, he stopped. His breath came in quiet pants as he blinked around the room. Though he knew it was only his imagination, he couldn't help but feel that Lori was somehow still with him then, smiling at him through the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

In the morning, Fury gathered Coulson, Steve, Clint, and Natasha in the conference room. "This came in a little while ago," he said, pulling a video up on the screen. It was the bulging view of a security camera displaying a stretch of empty, night-darkened sidewalk. "It's from an ATM machine in downtown Manhattan."

Everyone leaned forward to watch as a man stepped in front of the camera: the dark-haired, narrow-featured man that Steve had confronted on the back of a moving van. His striking green eyes flicked to the camera, and Steve felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as if the man was staring directly at him. The stranger pressed his hand to the machine, and in a sparkle of light the video went dead.

"Here is a photo of the ATM taken by the local cops," Fury continued, switching to the mangled remains of the device. "The dispensary was torn open and several thousand dollars taken. One witness said the man ripped it open with his bare hands. Given what little we know about this man, I'm inclined to believe him."

"Fingerprints?" Natasha asked.

"Taken. No matches, except to a few taken from the MDC, so we know for sure it's the same man who sprung Hammer."

"If he's still in the city," said Clint, "does that mean Hammer might be also?"

"It's possible. And if they are, it can only be because they think the cube is here, and they're planning something. There's also this." Fury switched the display again, to a collection of foreign mug shots and the documentation that accompanied them. "Several suspected HYDRA operatives in Europe are on the move. Three have already been detained at JFK but they've managed to lawyer up and there's not much we can hold them on. We suspect that more are on the way, possibly via Canada."

Steve glanced from one photo to the next, hoping but not expecting one of the faces to be familiar to him. He was tempted to ask Fury to call up the stranger's picture again. "Do we know what kind of tactical ability they have?" he asked instead. "Do they pose a threat?"

Fury looked to Coulson, who with a grim look stepped forward. "In the case of HYDRA, we can't be certain," he said. "But we believe now that these incidents are linked to one that occurred recently in New Mexico. You've all read the report...?"

"Didn't have to," Clint snorted.

Coulson frowned at him but continued. "These are photos of the aftermath of that incident," he said, calling up on the screen a battered and smoldering New Mexico town. "If we are dealing with something similar, then yes, they do pose a serious threat."

Fury took over again. "We've circulated photos of our mystery man to every police station in the city," he said. "As well as Hammer and Schmidt. If they're lying low and--" his lip twitched "--paying in cash, they won't be an easy find, but incoming operatives means they are meeting somewhere. Agent Romanoff, I'm sending you to JFK to keep an eye on our boys there. If they're released, they might end up leading us right to their boss."

"Yes, sir," said Natasha.

Clint frowned. "And us?"

"You're on standby."

"Sir." Steve gathered himself up. "I'd like to go into the city," he said, reminding himself that no matter how long it had been for anyone else, it was only a week ago that he was the most highly regarded Captain on the front of a world war. "I know you and Agent Coulson don't agree, but I still believe that the man we're looking for did recognize me, and I want answers." He swallowed. "I think he does, too."

Fury regarded him stoically. "Are you volunteering to be _bait_ , Cap?"

"When I first arrived Agent Coulson said it would be possible for me to have a residence off-site, if I wanted," he said. Fury cast his agent a stern look but Steve continued. "I would like to look into that, even if it's only on paper. And if he happens to find me...I'll ask him some questions."

"We'll see," said Fury. He turned on Clint. "Agent Barton will remain on base as a standby. But stay alert, all of you. We have no idea when these people will make their move. Dismissed."

On the way out Steve fell into step next to Coulson. "Sir, I was serious in there," he said. "I have no complaints about this base, but I would like to at least look into something in the city. You did say--"

"Yes, I did." Coulson glanced over his shoulder to be sure Fury wasn't within range. "But you're still a valuable asset to us, Captain. If you are right and this man does seek you out..."

"I can handle myself, sir."

"I know," Coulson said quickly. "But I don't think you understand, Captain. If _we're_ right about the connection to New Mexico, then what we're dealing with isn't human."

Steve frowned intensely. The thought should have been horrifying, mind-numbing, but there was a time when he had thought the same thing about Johann Schmidt. Some might have thought the same about him. "I understand," he said. "And I'm ready to take that risk."

Coulson tried not to smile. "This doesn't have anything to do with the acquaintance you met last night, does it?" he asked quietly.

Steve's cheeks immediately reddened. "Stark told you."

"This base doesn't allow for visitors," Coulson went on. "Especially those that haven't been cleared."

"I know, I know." Steve rubbed his mouth. "That's really not what I was thinking when I brought this up, though, honestly."

Coulson's smile made it all the way to his lips, and after a few paces in silence he let out an amused sigh. "I'll see if I can convince Director Fury."

"Thank you, sir." With a grin Steve hurried on. "I'll be in the gym if you need me."

***

"Commencing in three...two...one..."

The whole room lit up in a gleaming, brilliant display of blue and yellow light. Jane winced even behind her shielded glasses and felt Erik next to her doing the same. As her eyes adjusted she was able to make out the device once more: four pillars of metal at the center of the room, connected with webs of glistening wire like an animal pen. Electricity sparked up and down the twisted lattice and raised the temperature at least two degrees. Jane's scalp tingled as static lifted her hair. 

"Okay," called Tony from the other side of their glowing wrestling ring. "I'm firing it up."

Jane shielded her face with her hand and turned toward her displays. "Ready!" she called back, and a moment later the light intensified. Blue and yellow became pink and violet, and indigo, and green--a rainbow of blazing light engulfed them and every surface, and was accompanied by a roar of thunder that made Jane shiver. It was familiar.

"It's working," she said, glued to the readouts scrolling across her monitor. "Erik, it's working! Can you feel it?" She raised her head and grinned at the sight of prism rays rising out of their steel cage. Her heart fluttered and then fell when, all at once, sirens began to blare. The lights flickered and then extinguished all at once as if having been sucked out of the room. Jane swayed dizzily on her feet and had to grab at Erik's arm.

"Damn," said Erik, steadying her as he checked the computer. "It wasn't stable."

Jane sagged, but a moment later her spirit returned, and she pored over her screens. "What went wrong? It was working--look at this energy signature. It's almost a perfect match to what we recorded out west."

"Almost perfect wasn't enough, apparently," said Erik. "But we were close, weren't we? If only we were able to syphon energy directly from the cube itself..." 

He mumbled to himself as he continued to check their data. Jane moved to another set of monitors, her heart still quick and almost frantic, and it took her a while to realize that Tony had yet to respond to their failed test. "Mr. Stark?" She rounded the cage and found him just where he was supposed to be, but he was standing almost unnaturally erect. His eyes were trained on their device with wide, unblinking scrutiny.

"Mr. Stark?" He didn't respond, so Jane crept closer and tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Tony shook himself. He looked left and right and finally settled on Jane with hazy recognition. "Yes...?"

Jane frowned at him. "The test failed. Any ideas on why...?"

Tony rubbed his face and, much like the room itself, seemed to come back to himself all at once. "Right, sorry. That was...weird." He gave himself a light slap and turned back to the computers. "We were close, but something in the frequency wasn't quite right. It has to resonate _precisely_ in order to maintain the field. We might not be able to do this without the cube after all."

Jane continued to watch him, but he seemed to be fine, so she went back to work.

"It's too early for that," Erik said as they discussed the tests over lunch. "We've only had access to that cube for just under two weeks. We still don't know nearly enough about it to start experimenting with it."

"You said yourself that we need its energy in order to power the bridge," said Jane. "The arc reactor just isn't enough--the data proves that. If we don't make the leap we're looking at a dead end."

"Jane." Erik fixed her with the same look of parental sympathy that he had several times in the past few weeks. "I know how much this means to you, but--"

"It doesn't matter whether we do it now or later," Jane interrupted. "Either way we're going to do it eventually. And we're not going to understand that cube any better by sitting around, staring at it. Right?" She looked to Tony. "You've got a better handle on this than anyone, Mr. Stark. Don't you think..."

She trialed off when she realized that Tony wasn't listening again; he was staring into space, his face slack. "Mr. Stark," Jane said sharply.

Tony blinked, but when he looked to her it was with that same faraway expression. "You really are eager to get him back, aren't you?" he asked flatly.

Jane flushed. "No, that's...look, I'm doing this for _science_ , all right? If Thor's brother--or enemy or whoever else--is out there, we need to get this done, regardless." She sent a sharp glare at Erik. "And how do you even know about that? I mean, him? About..."

Tony was looking away again, but with greater clarity, and when Jane followed his gaze she saw Steve and Clint leaving the cafeteria. Tony's sudden shudder brought her attention back, and as he rubbed his face with both hands her irritation sharpened to concern. "Mr. Stark, are you sure you're all right? You've been acting really strange this morning."

"I'm fine," Tony insisted, reaching for his protein shake. "Sorry, just still a little hung over from last night. What were we talking about?"

***

Loki's eyes fluttered open. For a long moment he stared around the room in bleary half-recognition, taking in the curtained windows, cheap furniture, a table strewn with various electronics and monetary bills. It wasn't until his gaze landed on Hammer, watching him from his chair, that everything became clear and sharp again. He stretched his shoulders against the headboard and his legs out across the mattress.

"Well?" Hammer asked impatiently. "Did it work?"

Loki unfurled his sore fingers. His skin was tingling, but it faded with each slow breath he exhaled. When he licked his lips he could still taste Tony Stark's horrid beverage concoction.

"It worked," he said, eyes thinning with a pleased grin. "Even from this far away, I could still reach him." Pride swelled in his chest, though it was tempered by a fleeting concern. Seeping into another's mind was already one of his most difficult tricks, one he had accomplished a handful of times, astral projection another. In the past he would not have dared combine them, and he could not help but be awed but wary at how easily his spirit had ceded from his body when he asked of it. It felt eerily similar to falling through the void of space.

Synthia took a seat at the desk near him. "You were able to follow Stark to the base?"

"Yes," he said, but when she called up an aerial map on her laptop he was able to do nothing with it. "Show me what you had before--the view from the ground. Start at Stark's tower."

Synthia called up Google Earth, and by using the street view Loki was able to direct her through the city to what appeared to be a normal garage. "He passed through here," he said. "Into a tunnel heading south."

Hammer crowded over Synthia's shoulder. "There isn't a tunnel under the bay."

Loki glared at him until he shrank back. "It opened onto an island," he continued. "Or a peninsula. There was water on either side of us."

"Sandy Hook?" Again the aerial view was of little help. "There's only a bird observatory, and some lighthouses," said Synthia. "Unless these photos have been falsified."

"A S.H.I.E.L.D. base isn't going to show up on freaking Google," Hammer grumbled. "You're sure about this, big guy?"

"I will make certain before we plan the attack." Loki stood and moved to the window, peeking outside at the shuffling mortals below. "Report it to Johanna," he said. "And let her know that Stark and his workers are starting to investigate the Tesseract, at last. They haven't yet been successful in drawing its energy out, but if Schmidt found a way, so will Stark. We must intervene before they succeed."

"Yes, Lord Loki."

As Synthia clacked at her laptop Hammer helped himself to a drink. "That damn Stark," he muttered. "He always gets the lucky breaks. If _my_ daddy found that cube we would have had it cracked a long time ago."

Loki ignored him. His gaze flitted from one human to the next, and then upward, past the rise of buildings. He could only see one tiny corner of blue sky, but it made him shudder. From Midgard it looked like an impenetrable wall of atmosphere, but he knew better.

Hammer took a long gulp. "What do you think they're going to do with it, once they figure it out? Better Iron Mans? What a waste."

Loki's jaw worked. "They're going to open a bridge into Heaven," he said. "To my realm."

Hammer and Synthia both stopped to stare at him. "To Asgard?" Synthia asked, her voice tremulous. "But why?"

"To call upon my brother." Loki's mouth twisted in a feral grin. "They will seek his help against me."

It would do them no good, he told himself; his power had increased vastly since his last encounter with Thor, as recent as it had been. He could feel it pulsing through his veins as surely as Yggdrasil's sweet sap coursed through the bonds between worlds. But when he took in a deep breath he felt his chest constrict around him. An indescribable emotion lodged in the back of his throat and he couldn't give voice to his boasts.

They were interrupted by a bleating cacophony from the bedside table: a phone. Hammer picked it up and checked the number. "Uh...it says 'Steve Rogers'?"

Loki snatched it out of his hand and swiftly retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Clearing his throat, he answered the phone in Lori's voice. "Hello?"

"Hello," came Steve's reply. He sounded eager, and Loki was tempted to throw his spirit out again in hopes of seeing him. "It's Steve, from last night?"

Loki leaned back against the sink. "I was hoping I might hear from you," he said. "Are you available tonight?"

"No, I'm sorry. They're pretty strict here about getting time away. But I wanted to call, so you wouldn't think that I...you know, forgot. What you said."

Loki smirked. It had been a long time since he had courted or been courted, and Steve's attempts were just clumsy enough to be charming. He remembered a kiss shared decades ago: a prelude that had taken too long to come to chorus. "I knew you wouldn't forget," he said coyly. "And I wouldn't dare take you from your duty." He licked his lips. "But I want to see you again."

"So do I," Steve said quickly. "I'm trying to convince my CO." He chuckled. "I don't usually do things like this. I don't even know your last name."

Loki's eyes narrowed. After a millennium he had finally learned his true name, but he dared not repeat it in his own mind let alone aloud. "It's...Skjoldr. Lori Skjoldr."

"Sk..." Steve chuckled in embarrassment. "You might have to spell that for me."

"I will when you say we can meet again. Tomorrow night."

He could feel Steve pace. "Tomorrow might be too soon, but...the day after is Friday. Friday night? I'll take you to dinner."

Loki didn't understand any significance to 'Friday' but a date given was all he wanted. "Friday night," he repeated, the words rolling off his tongue. "Somewhere here in the city. Just the two of us, yes?"

"Yes." His voice dimmed. "Then...it's a date."

Loki again thought unwittingly of a kiss behind the bookshelves. "You will call me, with a time and place?"

"Of course. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Very well." Loki took the phone from his ear. "Until then, Steven." He hung up.

Loki let his breath out slowly. It had not been his intention to seduce his creation, but it seemed his disguise had done a fair job of doing so regardless. He couldn't say it displeased him. He closed his eyes, allowing pride to seethe through him untethered. It was a victory earned nearly a century too late but it was his: he had not failed after all. His captain was a thing of beauty and he had survived the Red Skull long into Midgard's future, as strong as he had ever been, perfectly placed and perfectly timed to be of the most use to his master. Loki could not have orchestrated fate any better had he done it himself. 

He must have him; and he would, whatever the cost.

***

Steve worked hard the rest of that day, and the day after it. He fought to prove himself at every meeting with a mentor, passed every weapons proficiency that he was tested on, was deemed healthy by every possible physical examination. He even put Clint through the paces while he was at it, to Clint's chagrin. By Thursday night he was feeling proud of himself, and his palms didn't sweat as he called Lori and got the address to her hotel. They picked six o'clock to meet.

"I'm looking forward to it," she purred, and her voice rippled deep into his belly. It took a long shower and a pumping fist to expel it.

Friday morning Natasha's report came in: the detained HYDRA agents had been released, and were each settling into motels and cheap, month to month apartments. They had made no attempt to contact Johanna Schmidt or anyone else, but several more had been detected crossing borders, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had resorted to gaining support from the FBI to keep tabs on them all.

It was just before lunch that Steve's week-end eye exam concluded with Agent Coulson picking him up. He had a twinkle in his eye as he asked Steve to join him for a drive into the city. They passed through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secret checkpoints, and though at first Steve allowed the scenery to pass by without paying much attention, eventually he realized there was a familiarity to the straight maze of streets. Some of the buildings stood out in his mind. "We're in Brooklyn."

Coulson smiled straight ahead. "Yes, we are."

They parked, and walked a block to an old antique store. Steve recognized it immediately and peered through the broad picture window. The decoration and merchandise had been significantly updated but there was no mistaking it. "This used to be an SSR base," he said wondrously.

"Still is, in a manner of speaking." Coulson waved for him to follow, and unlocked a door just past the shop's entrance. It led up a flight of stairs to a row of apartments. "When the SSR was divvied up, S.H.I.E.L.D. kept ownership of this building," he explained as he stopped at the furthest door. "We use it sometimes as a safe house for agents, or 'guests' that need a little extra security." 

He swung the door open and gesture for Steve to go ahead, so he did. It was a small, single bedroom apartment, simply furnished, not unlike any small room in Brooklyn but twice the size of Steve's base quarters. Steve wandered from the living room to the kitchen. Everything was aged but still modern by his standards, and he poked gingerly at the stove and microwave. He smiled at the tiny kitchen table right up against the window, just how he'd kept his a lifetime ago, so he could watch the kids playing ball in the alley after dinner.

"This is for me?" he asked hopefully.

"Technically, you're not cleared to live here permanently," said Coulson as they headed through the apartment to the bedroom. "Director Fury is still working on arranging something more permanent for the Avengers Initiative. But it's here, if you need it."

The bedroom was also furnished, a queen-sized bed against the wall and potted plant by the window. "I took some liberties," Coulson said. He opened the closet, revealing a collection of shirts, slacks, jackets, and a few pairs of shoes. "They match the measurements we took for your first set of clothes, but they can be exchanged, if you want. And there's this."

He pulled from his jacket a white envelope and handed it over. Steve thumbed it open; it was full of twenty-dollar bills. "What's this?"

"Back pay, from the army." Coulson smirked. "Not as much as you're owed, I'm sure, but it's a start. It should be more than enough to get you through your date."

Steve flushed as he tucked the money into his wallet. "I didn't tell Stark--"

"We know these things." He handed Steve a plastic card. "This debit card takes directly from your S.H.I.E.L.D. pay, but there's not much in that account yet, so don't go spending frivolously."

"I won't." Steve was still blushing as they returned to the living room. "Does this mean I'm cleared to be off base tonight?"

"Yes and no." Coulson was still subtly grinning. "I'm supposed to have my eye on you, but I'll be satisfied as long as you check in a few times. Did Mr. Stark show you how to text?"

"Yes, but...."

Coulson walked him through it again, and once Steve was sure he'd gotten the hang of it, he offered a sheepish thank you. "You've done a lot for me," Steve said. "I hope you're not getting in trouble because of it."

"Nothing I can't handle," Coulson replied wryly. "And it's not entirely selfless. I'm trying to make it easy for you to want to stay with S.H.I.E.L.D.."

"Can't imagine where else I'd be," Steve admitted, but he shook himself before any melancholy could seep in. "But, thank you. For all this, and..." He smiled bashfully. "Tonight."

"If Captain America can't show a woman a good time, there's no hope for the rest of us," Coulson said. He handed Steve the set of keys to the apartment. "Let me show you around the neighborhood. I'm sure there are a few more places you'll recognize."

Steve slipped the keys into his pocket and already felt more normal.

***

By the time six o'clock rolled around Steve was back to being a nervous wreck. He arrived at the hotel Lori had indicated and had barely climbed out of the cab when he spotted her at the doorway. She was wrapped in a stunning, flowing dress of white with silver accents that shimmered like ice in the evening light. Steve gulped, captivated, as she smiled at him and glided down the entrance steps on tall stilettos.

"I didn't keep you waiting, did I?" Steve asked. When she offered her hand to him, he kissed it.

"Not at all." Lori swept past him and into the open door of the cab. "Shall we?"

"Of course..." Steve took a deep breath to steel his nerves and then joined her.

"Since we're not far from the bridge I thought we might jump across," he said once they were underway. "Take a trip into Brooklyn. I had a place in mind, but if you'd rather stay in Manhattan..."

"It makes no difference to me." Lori smoothed out her dress, and Steve couldn't help but glance to her hands moving over her thighs. "I don't know the city well. I've only just arrived on business."

Steve smiled grimly. "Same here. I mean, I do know the city. I grew up in Brooklyn. But I've been gone for so long, everything's changed."

Lori settled in for the cab ride. "Where were you?" she asked.

It should have been a simple question. Steve tried not to frown, considering for barely a moment if he should tell her the truth. He was tired of telling people the truth. "I was overseas," he said. "Fighting. But I'm sure you've heard enough about soldiers, after the other night." He chuckled. "What about you? You're going to have to pronounce your last name for me again. Where are you from?"

"Skjoldr," she said, drawing it out for him. "It's an old Scandinavian name, for an old family. It means 'shield.'"

Steve blinked, and at first thought she must have been teasing him, but there was no humor in her face. "Okay, say it one more time," he said. "I'm going to get it right."

They chatted the whole way to Brooklyn, Steve about the bare details he could share from his life as a soldier-in-training, Lori about her home in Norway and her work as a historian. Some of her references were familiar, but it wasn't until they reached the restaurant that Steve remembered it was from the reading he'd done following Fury's briefings.

Coulson had helped him pick the restaurant earlier that afternoon: simple, bright, within Steve's budget. They were seated and both forewent the wine. As they waited for their orders Steve couldn't help but wonder at the strange circumstance of their meeting, and the newly discovered coincidence.

"You know, it's funny," he said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but until now I don't think I've given two thoughts to Scandinavian history. But you're the second person this week to bring it up to me."

"Who was the first?" Lori swirled her fingertip around the lip of her water glass. "Don't tell me your soldier friends take an interest in ancient poetry."

"Sorry to say, it's classified." He smiled at her, but when their eyes met a strange sensation came over him. She was watching him so closely, with recognition too deep to have been forged over a two day acquaintance. It was as if she _knew_ him. He told himself that he was imagining things, that he was just so unaccustomed to a woman's honest attention being fixed on him he was inventing explanations. It could only be coincidence.

"Never mind." He waved dismissively. "I want to hear more about _you_ , not just books. You said the other night you come from a military family?"

Lori sipped her water. "I do. My father, his father, his father's father. As far back as Norway itself. I've grown up among soldiers my entire life."

"Did you never think to be one?"

A strange expression twisted briefly across her face that Steve was at a loss to interpret. "I did," she said, lifting her chin. "But as you can see, I'm not entirely...equipped, in certain areas, to be suited to it."

"I don't know about that," Steve replied with ease he hoped would smooth over any offense he may have inadvertently caused. "I think you'd be surprised what kind of person makes a good soldier. Like me, for instance."

"You?" Lori chuckled. "You look more than _equipped_ to me."

Steve blushed but managed not to stumble over his response. "I wasn't always. You should have seen me before I joined up. Half this size if even that."

"I can believe it," she said. "I have seen what wonders a soldier's life can work on a man." She leaned back in her chair. "So many eager young boys put to the test, molded by battle, returning as men. Even some you'd think would break from a strong wind, hardened. You might say it runs in our...Viking line." 

Her tone was both wistful and bitter, and it reminded Steve so much of his younger self that he again had to wonder at the coincidence of their meeting. "You didn't think that would work for you?" he hazarded, but when her eyes narrowed on him he quickly recanted. "I don't mean to pry, I just--"

"Not all of us are meant to be soldiers," she said. "I made my attempts in that arena, but when it became clear it wasn't for me, I left the war-making to my brother and set my attention on...other avenues. They've served me well."

 _Not well enough._ The words hung unspoken in the air between them, and Steve slouched guiltily in his chair. He understood very well what Lori was describing; he had felt it his very first night at Camp Lehigh, wheezing in the barracks after a grueling day of drills and exercises. He remembered his entire body aching, his joints rattling, his face in his pillow as he told himself over and over, _It will get easier. You'll get stronger--you'll get better. Everyone gets better._ Looking back on it, he wasn't sure how he had ever convinced himself to continue in the face of such insurmountable odds.

And at the end of it, someone had handed him everything he'd ever wanted.

"I'm sorry," said Steve. "This is kind of heavy for a first date, huh?" He smiled awkwardly. "Let's talk about something else. You have a brother?"

Lori pulled her napkin into her lap as the servers arrived with their first course. "I have a brother," she said.

"I always wanted a brother. In a way, I had one." The memory was still fresh, and he realized with a start that he had not spoken a word of it to anyone since waking up in the future. With the war raging on he had not even had time to give Bucky the ceremony he deserved. He sighed and poked at his soup with his spoon. "Sorry, I guess that's not exactly uplifting conversation for a date, either."

"You lost someone."

"Yes." Steve took a deep breath. "A lot of people, actually. But I don't want to--"

"Tell me," said Lori. "I want to hear it." Her eyes were almost flashing. "And you want to say it."

Steve's heart swelled into his throat, preventing him from answering right away. "I...do," he admitted. She watched him carefully and it took a shake of his head to get himself to look away. "I feel like you're hypnotizing me or something."

She smiled. "I promise you, for once I am doing no such thing."

So he told her about Bucky, backwards. He started with the shattering death, with whatever detail he could manage. He expected her to question his account--he had learned enough about America's current wars to know that there should have been no battlefields on trains speeding through the Alps--but she only listened, prodding him along where necessary. It surprised him when the telling didn't remove his appetite entirely. Guilt told him he ought to feel the pain in his chest, the crushing sense of loss that had nearly crippled him the night it had happened. He shouldn't be enjoying the company of a beautiful woman when death hung at his edges. Then Lori encouraged him to talk about their childhood, and even that slipped away. Soon he was describing the pranks of their boyhood with more enthusiasm than he had felt for anything in days, enthusiasm he hadn't known he could ever feel again. And Lori drank it in.

It wasn't until Steve had run out of anecdotes and only the last bites of dessert remained on their plates that Lori spoke more than to facilitate him.

"You speak so well of your Mr. Barnes," she said, her eyes downcast and smile faint. "I'm quite envious."

"Do you not get along with your brother?" he asked carefully.

She laughed--dry mirth tinged with something almost manic. "That does not even begin to describe us. It's...extremely complex."

A waiter dropped off the check, which Steve promptly paid for. "Why don't you tell me about him? You've already listened to me rattle on all night."

"I'm afraid to." She pressed the back of her spoon against the last remnants of her _crème brûlée_ so that it squashed out from beneath it. "You'll think less of me," she said shyly.

"Of course not." With the check settled Steve moved around the table to pull her chair back for her. She slipped her arm into his and they left together, strolling down the line of dusk-lit shops. Steve took a deep breath of Brooklyn air and felt, with a woman at his side and familiar streets stretching before him, that he was tasting a life he'd always wanted after all.

"I really do want to hear more about your family," he said. "But...if you're not comfortable with that..."

Lori stared straight ahead, and after a few moments' pause, she spoke. "My brother and I were very much like you and your Mr. Barnes, when we were young. Troublesome children that caused a great deal of grief for our father. Some amusement as well, I'd like to think." Her arm tensed against his. "Something changed. I can't remember now when it happened, or how. We quarreled over foolish things. We were even...cruel." She straightened. "But it matters little now. I'll likely never see him again."

Steve's brow furrowed. "Is he...?"

"Oh, no. He's very much alive. Last I knew, that is. Safe at home, with Mother and Father." She smiled ruefully. "Where I cannot go."

"You can't go home?" Steve swallowed hard. "But you said you're only in town on business."

"When I leave, it will not be to go home. That door...is closed to me." She shook her head. "Nor do I wish otherwise. Please, let's not talk about it."

"I'm sorry," Steve said hastily. "I didn't mean..." He chuckled nervously. "I'm really making this a horrible date, aren't I?"

Lori slipped her hand into his, and their fingers intertwining made Steve's heart beat a little faster. "Not at all," she assured. "In fact, I'm relieved. I feel as if we have much more in common than I anticipated." She glanced up at him. "You cannot go home either, can you?"

Steve fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, technically...." He looked to the buildings rising on either side of them, the flickering neon signs, the racing automobiles. "I guess not," he said. "During the war, I didn't think about it that much. What I would do when I got home, I mean. All that mattered was staying alive long enough to win. But part of me always assumed that I _would_ get to go home eventually. With my friends. With..."

He trailed sharply off and hoped that Lori wouldn't press, but she did. "With a woman?" she asked gently.

"Well...I shouldn't--"

"It's all right; I understand." Lori gave his hand a shake. "You lost a woman you loved."

Loved. It wasn't a word Steve had ever used to describe his feelings for Peggy--certainly not one she would have used, either. The commandos had teased him often but never in those terms. But when Steve drew in a breath, tried to form his own lips around the word, he felt the loss keenly in his gut. "Yeah," he admitted, emotion making his voice thick. "Yeah, I did."

Lori's fingers moved sympathetically against his. "Would you have still gone to war, if you had known how it would end?" she asked.

Steve didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes," he said. He gulped down the lump in his throat. "I don't regret going. It was the right thing to do, it's just that sometimes..." He pushed his hair back and realized how clammy his palms suddenly were. "I wish things could have ended different. I think about it a lot, actually. If only I'd done _this_ instead of _that._ If I had been stronger--if only I'd been faster. Maybe I could have come home, the way I was supposed to." His shoulders drooped. "But then I wake up and I remember...I can't. There's no point in even thinking about it, because things are never going back to how they were. It's stupid."

The emotion crept up on him again. "It's stupid," he repeated as Lori drew him to a halt. "When I signed up I was ready to die for my country. Nobody said anything about...this."

Lori slipped her hand free, and Steve's heart sank; he hadn't meant to display so much weakness in front of anyone let alone her, and he should have known that she would scorn him for it. But then she turned toward him, and her long, slender arms wrapped around the back of his neck. Her body pressed into his and suddenly the smell of her hair was overpowering, drowning out even the car exhaust and dusty alleyways.

"I know," she said, her voice frail against the shell of his ear. "I know."

Steve's hands hovered in front of him, but not for long. She tensed against him and instinctually he embraced her, his arms tight against her back. She _did_ know. He felt it in the tiny tremor beneath her skin. Her family was far away and she was isolated in a strange country, just as he was, full of regret. His chest ached with empathy and he held her tighter, for the first time since waking out of the ice allowing himself full grief. 

"Steven." He could feel Lori's lips moving very close to his throat when she spoke. "Do you believe in fate?"

"I don't know," Steve said truthfully. "I've never really thought about it."

Lori leaned back, not enough to loosen Steve's arms around her--just enough to slide one hand forward, cupping his face. "I do," she said, with such sincerity that Steve was almost converted then and there. "I am sorry for what you've suffered, but not as sorry as I ought to be." Her thumb drew tiny circles against his cheek. "Because I feel as if you were brought here just for me."

Steve was speechless. Her words were barbed, strange and prickling and lodging in all his defenseless places. Hesitation approaching suspicion kept him still, but when she rose up on her toes he dipped his head without thinking. Their lips met. The gentle pressure of her warm mouth eased away Steve's misgivings. He shivered, drawing her in. Her body seemed to fit to his perfectly and his every nerve tingled with sudden self-awareness. 

His kiss was clumsy, he was sure of it, but she returned it, and when she separated them it was reluctantly. "Do you feel it, too?" she asked in barely more than a whisper.

Steve had to remind himself to breathe. "Yes," he croaked.

Lori's hands slithered to his chest, each fingertip resonating in him with that strange tug he had felt their first meeting. "Let's keep walking," she suggested. She kept one of his arms around her waist as she urged them onward. "I don't wish to leave yet."

Steve was lightheaded as they continued down the sidewalk. "I'd invite you to a show," he said, trying to laugh off his dizziness, "but I doubt anything good is playing."

"American art is dreadful," Lori agreed. "Let's just...keep walking."

They circled the block hand in hand, sharing quiet, tentative conversation. Steve pointed out a few buildings and landmarks he remembered, coming close several times to telling Lori the truth but holding back. He even managed to convince Lori to tell him more about her childhood with her brother. Her stories were hesitant and careful, as if she were rewriting bits of them as she went, but Steve didn't mind. It wasn't difficult to tell by her tone which parts were certainly true, and he assumed the parts that weren't were simply too personal or too embarrassing to mention. He simply enjoyed listening to her voice, the way it dipped and flitted over each emotion like music. It came to her so naturally he could almost imagine she had been doing it for hundreds of years.

"Your father was a soldier, wasn't he?" Lori asked as they finally took their cab ride back into Manhattan. "Is that why you decided to become one?"

"Not...exactly." Steve frowned down at his hands. "I don't even remember him all that well. It's hard to explain."

"You wanted to be like him?" Lori prodded. "Strong, like him?"

Steve chuckled dryly. "Nah, I never honestly thought that I'd be strong," he said. "Not like this. Looking back at it now...I'm not sure _he_ was all that strong, either." He took her hand again and was pleased with himself for being able to touch her so casually without blushing. "But he did everything he could, for whatever needed doing. My mom always said that if a job needed doing, Joe Rogers was the one to do it. So when it looked like a war needed winning..."

He smiled sideways at her. "Well. I guess in the end I just couldn't bear the thought of doing _nothing_."

Lori smiled back, but the expression was tinged with a faraway bitterness. "Neither could I."

She kissed him on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. It was slow and passionate, her body leaning into his, her fingertips only ghosting along his throat. People must have been staring but they didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the flicker of electricity between them, and when they pulled apart, he was embarrassed by how much he missed her already.

"Sorry it wasn't the most romantic date," he said awkwardly. "I'm a little new at this."

"It was perfect," Lori replied. "It was exactly what I needed."

"Me, too." Steve took a deep breath as he realized how true the words were. "I needed this. Would you..."

Lori interrupted him with another, shorter kiss. "Call me," she said, her hand lingering on his chest as she stepped away. He swayed forward as if tempted to follow but then she turned, heading up the steps to the hotel.

"Good night!" Steve called after her, and she flashed him a grin. He kept the image with him all the way home and through the night.

***

When Loki made it back into the room Synthia had already gone to bed. The lights were off except for one lamp on the table, which illuminated Hammer and his crowded workspace. He was leaning over a pile of electronics, his shirtsleeves bunched at the elbows, a spot of blood on the underside of one finger. He glanced up as Loki moved toward him.

"Oh, you're back." He shared a grin with himself. "I thought for a while there I wouldn't see you until morning."

Loki didn't reply. He dropped his purse on the dresser and took the chair opposite Hammer, stretching his limbs. He considered breaking his disguise, but the magic was still strong, and when he closed his eyes he could feel the imprint of Steve's body against his. It was worth holding onto a while longer.

He was raw. He had intended to learn more about Steve Rogers, especially as concerned his survival for the past seventy years, but he had not anticipated being so affected by the details of Steve's past, his tales of boyhood, his uncertainty. His loneliness. Steve's voice rumbled in the empty spaces under his skin. It was too close. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

For a few minutes he sat with only Hammer's continued tinkering ruining the silence, trying and failing to arrange his thoughts into order. "What are you doing?" he asked at last with eyes still closed.

"I'm making you something," said Hammer, sounding too proud of himself.

"What is it?"

"A camera. Since you were so taken by Youtube." Hammer clicked something and it whirred to life like a buzzing insect. "It'll fly when I'm done. Then you can get all your globe-dominating antics on video, controlled from a safe distance."

Loki hummed, amused but not impressed. "And what made you think to do that?"

"I don't know. You've had me stuck here for three days now." He clicked it off. "I couldn't just do _nothing_."

Loki's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"What?" Hammer leaned away. "I was bored doing nothing, so Synthia bought me some stuff to work with." He pulled a face. "If you don't want it, you don't have to use it."

Loki frowned and waved for him to continue. He even watched Hammer work for a while, though he could make no sense of the precise movements of his hands over the various devices and electronics. "I wasn't aware you had skill in this area," he said.

Hammer's lip twitched. "Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just my good looks that kept me CEO of my own damn company."

The words rolled off his tongue: an easy, practiced line he had doubtlessly used time and time again. It was a mask filled with cracks. Loki marveled at how poor a liar Hammer was until he realized that it was familiar.

Faked ease, dry sarcasm--the most basic of self-conscious disguises. Bitterness drawn taut like a wire. They made Loki itch. "But it has been some time, hasn't it?" he said, eying the spot of blood on Hammer's fingers. "Since you last exercised your trade."

Hammer noted the direction of his stare and sucked the stain clean. "I'm an executive. Usually leave the actual _building_ stuff to the engineers." He snapped a piece of casing into place. "That's what I pay them for. Or, did." He grunted. "You know."

"Tony Stark is the master of his guild," Loki pointed out, "but he still builds many of his own creations, from what I gather."

"Okay." Hammer put his tools down with a huff of irritated laughter. "Okay, now don't get me started on Stark again." He reached for a glass of water.

Loki knew that laughter. He was just better at suppressing it than Hammer. "You hate him."

"N...No. Nooo." Hammer took a long gulp and the set his glass aside. His muscles were twitching under his skin and he laughed again. "Come on, don't be like that. Tony and I, we go way back, you know? Like MIT back. Maybe there's some rivalry between our companies, but--"

"Johanna Schmidt told me what happened," Loki interrupted. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table as he watched Hammer intently. He was disgusting but Loki had to watch. "You lost."

"No," Hammer said, more sharply than before. "It wasn't a competition--there wasn't anything to lose." He tried to laugh again but his breath didn't go further than another bitter exhalation. Hammer grabbed his tools and went back to work, agitated. "He _tricked_ me. He and that Pepper Potts--they made me take the fall, but it wasn't _my fault_."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "He is the reason you were imprisoned."

"Yes! Yes, he is. If he hadn't shown up that night, nothing would have happened. Everything would have been _fine_."

"You told me," said Loki, "you wanted me to hurt him."

Hammer threw his things onto the desk with a clatter. "So what?" he snapped, and Loki might have punished him for his insolence had he not been expecting it. "So what--maybe I did. Maybe I do. Do you think I don't have a good enough reason? Think he hasn't hurt _me_?" Hammer tossed his glasses on the table with the rest. "He's taken _everything_ from me, and okay, he's brilliant, yeah, I know. They've been telling me that for years, thanks. But was it too much to ask?"

He raked his hands his hands through his hair, his eyes fixed on the crowded desk in front of him. "That for just one night, in the entire history of--of human existence, couldn't it have been _me_ instead of him? Just one fucking night, and he couldn't let me have it. That selfish son of a..."

Hammer stopped, his chin in his palm, his eyes stubbornly averted. He was every bit a child seething in bitterness and self-pity. Loki did not pity him; he hated him. Hammer's selfish, unrighteous anger burned between Loki's temples, and he wanted to grab the pathetic mortal, shove him through the flimsy inn walls and snarl, _Take your night, you cowering worm, you miserable wretch. How dare you cry to me of your impotence!_

Loki's spell fell away, leaving him male again as he pushed up from his chair and snatched Hammer by the front of his shirt. He didn't make it to the walls. When Hammer looked up at him, startled and weak, Loki's anger sharpened into something far more lethal, and he quivered. A fear approaching panic pulled at his spine and he wanted to run. He didn't belong with these mortals. He could forgive himself for feeling kinship with Steve Rogers, a man-made-god, but not this one. Not the spineless, jealous insect whose heart was suddenly so quick beneath his palm.

Loki took in a long breath, and by the time he let it out he was calm again. "Justin Hammer," he said. His fingers nearly creaked as he loosened his grip on the man's shirt and then delicately smoothed it out. "You will have your one night. Stay loyal to me, and you will have power. Real power. Then you can make Tony Stark bleed yourself."

He moved away, his hand lingering on Hammer's chest until distance separated then. He was suddenly exhausted and he needed to sleep. He could hear Justin Hammer tinkering all through the night. __


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning Loki and his two unlikely companions were sharing an early breakfast when Hammer finally had something worthwhile to say.

"You know," he said, without quite the usual obnoxious bravado, "it really isn't Hammer Industries' weapons program that's keeping the company afloat. Sometimes that entire division is in the red."

"So why put so much money into it?" asked Synthia.

Hammer started to answer, but a glance at Loki made him think otherwise. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, our real money-maker is medical technology. MRIs and EKGs and...a whole lot of other letters. We even have a top-of-the-line genetics lab here in Manhattan. It was their recent breakthrough with gene therapy that funded our line of..." He twitched. "...robot soldiers."

Loki stopped eating to stare. "Gene therapy," he repeated.

"Yeah. Genetics. DNA." Hammer thumbed his nose. "I bet they'd love to get their hands on you."

Loki considered silently for several minutes as the others continued to eat. Then he said, "Contact Johanna."

***

"I heard you didn't get back to base until late last night," Clint teased as he and Jane joined Steve for a late lunch. "Have a hot date or what?"

Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling. He wasn't sure he had stopped smiling since waking up that morning. "How does everyone hear these things?"

"It's not hard to find out when the entire place is run on key-card check-ins," said Jane. "Plus Mr. Stark mentioned it."

"How did _Stark_ know?" 

"Just tell us how it went," Clint insisted. "And how you managed it when you haven't even been alive more than two weeks."

Steve didn't approve of his choice of words, but it still wasn't enough to dampen his mood. "It went good. I think." He allowed himself a moment for doubt, but the memory of Lori's mouth against his swiftly banished it. "She told me to call her."

"Then it went well," said Jane, and she smiled. "Good for you."

Clint gulped down a mouthful of apple. "So did you get laid?"

"Hey," Steve said sharply, even though his stomach did a little flip.

Jane also sent him a disapproving glare. "That's really none of our business."

"It was only our first date," Steve added. "She's not a floozy."

Clint choked on another mouthful of apple, snorting and grunting, but no one offered any assistance. "Really, Agent Barton," Jane scolded him.

Clint managed to swallow it down and reached for his water. "He used the word _floozy._ "

Steve made a face and would have said more if not for the interruption of Clint's cellphone. It didn't sound like a ringtone so much as an alarm. Clint's demeanor became quickly serious as he wiped his mouth and answered. "Yes, sir?" He listened for a moment and then started packing up the remains of his lunch; Steve immediately did the same. "Yes sir, he's here, too. We're on our way."

"News?" Steve's pulse hitched; he was in a perfect mood to do something productive. "Is it HYDRA?"

"Don't know yet, but Coulson has a car waiting." He gave Jane a two fingered salute. "Later, rocket scientist."

"Astrophysicist," she corrected. "Good luck."

"And you," said Steve as he pushed to his feet. "You're doing your big experiment soon, aren't you?"

Jane nodded excitedly. "It'll depend on a few things, but yeah. If it works I'm sure you'll hear about it."

Steve and Clint suited up and met Coulson in the garage with a handful of other agents. He appraised them of the situation during the SUV ride to the site. "It was just called in, but we're already too late," he said. "We even had a man stationed outside the facility, but he didn't know to report anything out of the ordinary until after they'd left."

"After who left?" asked Steve.

"Everyone. The security cameras got it all on film--I'll show you when we get there."

The location was a skyscraper in downtown Manhattan, thirty stories tall and home to a variety of different offices and laboratories. Coulson guided them through security into a back office filled with monitors. A uniformed guard was waiting for them, and called up the eighth floor across several of the screens.

"It started at 11:48," the man said. He indicated the scenes of men and women hard at work, and as the timestamp reached 11:48 exactly, each of the scientists stopped what they were doing to stare at the ceiling. As if on cue then they hurried to life once more, bustling between the tables, typing furiously on their computers. Several started loading pieces of equipment and stuffed bottles into crates and carts.

"What happened?" asked Clint, squinting between the different views. "Did they break quarantine or something?"

"Nothing was reported," the guard said. "But you can see them loading equipment into the east elevator. It's an emergency protocol, in case of a break-in or natural disaster, like a fire. That elevator runs on a separate power grid and leads straight to the reinforced storage area. It's strictly equipment only down there, no personnel except building security. We have a lot of labs doing important research and they pay us to make sure their findings are kept safe if there's an emergency."

"There's also an off-site server that all electronic data is automatically uploaded to," added Coulson. "Only the head of each department has the passcodes for that server, and the elevator. In this case, that would be Patricia Yeon." He pointed to a woman in one of the monitors. "Head of Hammer Industries' advanced genetics division."

Steve felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. "Genetics..."

"So someone tripped the fire alarm," Clint said. "Tricked them into uploading all their data and flushing the important equipment. I guess there's no point in asking if it's all accounted for?"

"All gone," Coulson confirmed. "From what we can tell, all the information made it to the emergency server, but was then deleted very thoroughly. The equipment made it to storage but it also doubles as a loading bay." He gestured to the guard, who obediently called up a shot of the bay in question. A pair of black vans pulled up to the building, welcomed by the building security, and began loading the packed crates.

"That's our head of bay security, Mr. Edwards," said the guard grimly, pointing out one of the men facilitating the loading. "He claims that Dr. Yeon gave the order to load everything up herself. You can see her on the other tape, making the call. It's proper procedure for an emergency." He frowned up at his guests. "Except, there was no emergency. We didn't issue a fire alarm, and as far as we can tell, no one triggered one anywhere in the building. No one on the floor above or below heard anything, either."

Steve watched the black and white people scurry about. "What happened, then? What did Dr. Yeon say?"

Coulson shook his head. "She's gone, too."

They advanced the footage past the rescue efforts, to Dr. Yeon gathering up her researchers in the stairwell. As a group--just over half a dozen in total--they rushed to the ground floor and out the emergency exits. Another van was waiting for them, and as they piled inside one man stood back, and turned to face the rear camera. His face was pixelated and indistinct but Steve felt a chill anyway.

"That's him," he said. He clenched his fist against the back of the security guard's chair and leaned forward. "Can you rewind? See where he came from?"

The man complied. They followed the stranger back up the stairs with the group, into the lab. As the men and women bustled about in their hasty but focused work, only the stranger stood apart. None of the others paid him any attention, even when he had to dodge out of their way, and though he wandered from one end of the room to the other, he made no apparent attempts to help. The camera was able to follow him to the lab's entrance, but he did not appear in the footage of the security checkpoint in the lobby. He had glided into one frame without having ever entered the building in the first place.

"I think you're right," said Coulson. "That's our boy."

"Play through it again," Steve said urgently.

They watched again, forward this time, as the stranger paced through the laboratory. There was at one point that he stopped and leaned back against at a table as he stared up into the camera. After nearly a full minute he moved on.

Steve insisted on seeing the lab for himself. Local law enforcement was already on the scene, but Steve let Coulson handle the jurisdiction debate while he moved swiftly to the table. It was strewn with spilled papers and Steve pushed them aside, ignoring the complaints of the policemen. By turning toward the camera he was able to put himself in exactly the position the stranger had been standing.

"He looked at the camera," he murmured. "He knew we'd be watching. He wanted to tell us something."

Clint glanced to the camera and back. "What?"

Steve placed his hand on the table and felt scratches in the surface. They were intermittent, orderly, and when he looked he recognized the divots and slashes drawn into the polished wood as if with a man's fingernail.

"It's Morse code," he said. He drew his fingertips over the ridges and imagined the quiet _pings_ against his ears. He could almost feel Private Jones at his side, deciphering. "And it's coded. I know this."

Clint watched in confusion as Steve pulled a small notepad out of his vest pocket and began copying the symbols down. "No one uses Morse code anymore," he said. "Not even the Coast Guard."

His words only made Steve more interested, and he licked his lips excitedly as he scrawled out the sequence. To the untrained eye it may as well have been chicken scratches, and even to Steve it was an old memory he needed to strain to recall, but gradually it came back to him. He waved Coulson over. "We went through several different codes during the war," he explained. "Some simple, some complex, to keep HYDRA from following our movements. This was an early one we used while in France. Jones and Dernier came up with it together. HYDRA eventually cracked it but only a Howling Commando or a Nazi codebreaker would know to use this."

Coulson and Clint exchanged a look. "What does it say?" they asked together.

Steve held his breath as he worked out the sequence and finally had an answer. He swallowed as he stared at the sentence he had written. "'My name is Loki.'"

As soon as they were back on the base Steve sought out Director Fury. "Sir, is there anything you're not telling me?" he asked, leaning forward on Fury's desk. "About how you found me, what I was found with? I have the right to know."

Fury was never an easy read, but for once Steve believed it when he stared back with blank bewilderment. "There's not much to tell," he said. "Your plane was spotted by mere coincidence. There wasn't anyone else on board and the wreckage is _still_ being salvaged." He frowned. "Is this about our mystery man?"

"'My name is Loki.'" Steve displayed his notebook. "He left this at the scene of his last crime."

Fury glanced past him and received a nod of affirmation from Coulson and Clint. He accepted the notebook for a closer look. "This is an SSR code," he said after only a few seconds.

Steve's momentum faltered with the unexpected recognition, but it wasn't as important as the message itself, so he went on. "Even when this code was active less than a dozen people knew it. And someone is using it seventy years later on the other side of the ocean? I was right: this man knows me. He left this so that I would see it--so I'd know who he is."

"And _do_ you know who he is?" asked Fury impatiently.

Steve clenched his jaw. "No," he admitted. He leaned back. "Or if I do, I don't remember. I can't place his face. But his name, Loki." He waved behind him. "What did you say about that, Agent Coulson?"

Coulson stepped forward. "Other than being an obvious mythology reference, Dr. Foster claims that Thor named 'Loki' as his brother. He may have been responsible for the unidentified weapon we recovered in New Mexico."

"I read the report," Fury reminded him. "So you're saying our stranger is actually an Asgardian god?"

"A god of mischief, actually," added Clint.

Fury scratched thoughtfully at the skin around his eye patch. "And what does an Asgardian trickster god want with Justin Hammer's gene therapy..."

He straightened up, coming immediately to the same conclusion that Steve had. "HYDRA is trying to rebuild its army," Steve said. "They're calling in reinforcements, they're probably planning to make a move for the cube--and now they're gathering information on genetic engineering. They're trying to finish what Schmidt started, including the source of his strength."

"The super soldier serum," Fury muttered.

"These men aren't human," Steve went on. "So Agent Coulson said in his report. Which means this Loki could have been alive for decades. If he was on HYDRA's side during the war that would explain how he recognized me."

Fury sighed. "And we still have no idea where they're hiding."

"We have to assume that it was Hammer that guided them to the lab," said Coulson. "His other facility here in New York has been under surveillance ever since the Expo incident, but Hammer Industries has other small scale operations across the country. I've already assigned several agents to keeping an eye on them."

"And no news yet from Agent Romanoff?"

"No, sir."

Fury considered, then said to Coulson, "All right. Show him what else we brought in."

Coulson led Steve and Clint to the armory. A steel cabinet was set in one wall that required a swipe from his keycard to open, and as the panels folded away Steve's pulse quickened. He only needed to see a glimpse of a white star to know what it was.

"It's been restored to the best of our ability," Coulson said, stepping back so that Steve could get a good look at it: his shield, his old companion, as vibrantly colored as when it had been new. "Director Fury was saving it until we were sure you'd be staying on with us here at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"So that means..." Steve drew his hand over the ridged surface with a look of awe.

"Yes, Captain." Coulson smiled. "It means you're now considered an active agent."

Clint gave him a hearty clap on the back. "Congrats, Rogers. Looks like even I have to start calling you Captain now."

"You can call me whatever you want," said Steve. He fingered the shield's edge and then looked to Coulson for approval. Coulson nodded, so with a grin he lifted the shield from its brace, testing its weight in his hands and on his arm. He laughed. "Funny, how much I missed this and didn't even realize."

"You want to take it to the range?" Clint suggested. "Get reacquainted?"

"Yes--of course." He fidgeted. "But let me make a quick call."

***

When Loki saw the name appear on his ringing phone he only cast a quick glance at his unwanted companions before answering, in the proper voice, "Hello?"

"Lori, it's Steve," he said. His voice was light and excited. "How are you? Did you get in okay last night?"

Loki smiled despite himself. "Of course I did--you were there." He glanced outside to the trees flashing by. "I had a great time."

"Yeah? Then you wouldn't mind..." He cleared his throat. "I'd like to see you again."

As foolish as it was, Loki couldn't help but be charmed by Steve's boyish enthusiasm. "I'm going to be very busy with my work for a while," he said. "But I should have an evening free the day after tomorrow."

"Monday night, then. I should be able to sneak out again. Six o'clock? At the hotel?"

"I'll be ready." The van began to slow, and Loki cupped his hand over the phone so that Steve wouldn't hear the screeching tires and chattering voices. "Until then, Steven."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Loki hung up and tucked the phone into his jacket. Synthia was watching him but he gave her no notice as he climbed out the side door and moved to the back of the van. He was joined by Johanna and Hammer. They threw open the back doors and seven scientists glared back in fearful confusion.

"What's going on?" demanded Dr. Yeon. "Why are we..." Her bewilderment became anger when she spotted Hammer. " _You_?"

"Long time no see, Doctor," Hammer sang. "How have you been? And your husband?"

She started to climb out of the van, but Johanna motioned her back into place with her handgun. The remaining scientists gasped and murmured as they shrank deeper into the van. "Why did you bring us here?" Dr. Yeon asked, trying to remain stern though her hands were shaking.

"You've been reassigned," said Hammer. "You and your researchers are working for HYDRA now." He gestured to Johanna, and the men and women whispered nervously.

"We're not doing anything for criminals," said Dr. Yeon.

"Um, actually." Hammer smiled sheepishly. "It's not exactly a request."

Loki stepped forward. "I have a sample of blood for you to examine," he told the group, focusing on the frightened men and women rather than Dr. Yeon. "Blood that was used, many years ago, to create a serum that could enhance a human subject past the point of physical perfection." He glanced to Hammer. "As I've been told, your country's government has made attempts in the past several years to recreate this serum, with disastrous results. They did not have access to the most important element. But you will. If you can unlock the secrets of this 'genetic code,' you will have recognition and wealth far beyond what you will ever have as slaves to Hammer's dying guild."

The scientists exchanged looks. "What sample?" asked one.

Loki regarded them silently for several beats. He knew what he must do to convince them, but he was loath to do so. Already he felt ill from the thought of it. But as they watched him, cowering but expectant, he knew there was no other choice.

"I am the sample," said Loki. He held his palm up. "The blood will come from me."

It started with the tips of his fingers. His magic peeled away inch by inch, revealing the blue-tinted skin that even his infant self had known to hide. Up his arms the revelation spread, smooth flesh replaced with Jotun hide and curving, scar-like markings. The humans stared in disbelief as even his borrowed clothing transformed into flowing Asgardian armor, plated and tempered and royal. His eyes blazed crimson and he turned them on each of his new followers in turn.

"My name is Loki," he declared. "He whom your primitive ancestors worshipped as a god. In my blood lies the key to human immortality and I am giving it to you." He stretched his hand toward Dr. Yeon. "If you will take it."

She hesitated, her stare wide and fearful, but at last took his hand. The touch of his chilled flesh almost made her flinch back but Loki's fingers clenched swiftly around hers. He tugged her out of the van, and slowly, her peers followed. Once they had all disembarked Johanna took over and marched them into her facility.

Loki turned to Hammer. The man was gaping unapologetically, and he offered him a dry grin. "Well, Justin Hammer?" he taunted bitterly. "What do you think of my _true_ form?"

Hammer rubbed the shock out of his face. "Actually," he said, "I think I prefer you as a woman."

Loki snorted, but he couldn't say he was displeased. He allowed his ancient disguise to slip back into place. "Come. Once they've taken enough of my blood you and I will return to the city. There is still much to do."

***

At six o'clock on Monday night Steve picked up Lori at her hotel again. She was as beautiful as ever, wrapped in an emerald dress with silver necklaces forming an elegant lattice against her pale chest. Steve grinned, even more so when she greeted him with a kiss to his lips.

"You look beautiful in green," he said.

"Thank you." She squeezed his hand and they slipped into the taxi together.

Dinner was a lighter affair than their last. With the majority of Steve's nerves behind him he found it much easier to speak to Lori, and there was plenty he wanted to tell her. "I've been working hard the last two days," he chatted excitedly. "I'm technically not a civilian anymore. My CO has cleared me for field duty."

"Congratulations." Lori frowned slightly as she nudged at her pork dinner. "That doesn't mean you're about to be deployed overseas, does it?"

"No, I'll still be operating out of the base here." Steve fidgeted. "But it could get dangerous. I'm not sure I should even be out with you like this. There may be enemies out looking for me..."

Lori scoffed. "Did you forget I was raised in a houseful of soldiers? I do not fear a little danger." She reached across the table to stroke his forearm. "And you are worth the risk."

Steve grinned, twisting his wrist so he could catch Lori's hand in his. "So are you."

After dinner Steve was hesitant to leave, but he was still very conscious of the threat that might still be lingering in the city. Rather than invite fate in open view of the streets he--blushingly--suggested they wind the evening down at his newly acquired apartment in Brooklyn. 

"It's brand new," he said. "I don't even have any food in there. So if you'd rather I take you back to the hotel..."

Lori drew him toward the door. "I'm not ready to go back yet," she said.

Steve let them in. His stomach twisted into balloon animals as he led her up the stairs. It was barely his at all--he had not even spent a full hour inside, had not paid for any part of it--but still, the thought that he was bringing a woman home filled him with anxiety and exhilaration he had hoped for all his teenaged years. "It's really not much," he apologized in advance as he opened the door. "But there are glasses. I'll get us some water..."

Lori moved inside ahead of him and slipped out of her heels. On bare feet she investigated the living room with apparent approval. "It is...cozy," she said, leaving her purse on the table.

"'Cozy' meaning 'small,' right?" Steve chuckled as he stepped out of his shoes and went to the kitchen to pour them some water. "It's more than I used to have, at least."

When Steve joined her she had picked a seat on the sofa, and he sat down next to her. "Here." He offered her a glass.

"Thank you." 

Steve turned on the television. It came up on a news station, broadcasting about a recent car-bombing in Afghanistan. Steve winced and would have changed it if not for Lori touching his wrist. She watched the report and its footage with a strange, faraway look.

"It's like this nearly every day on Earth, isn't it?" she said.

"It seems like it." Steve felt his same frustration from a week ago creep up on him. "It didn't seem this complicated when I was on the front lines," he admitted. "They told you were the bad guys were and you took care of it. Everyone was right: things are different. I'm not sure I'd know where to start if I was over there now."

Lori turned her glass slowly in her hands. "It's human nature," she said thoughtfully. "To make things complicated. To disagree and make war. It will take more than soldiers to bring peace to so much conflict."

"If only there was some way to...I don't know, bring people together. In the end we all want the same thing, don't we? To live our own lives and be free?" Steve shook his head. "It's like everyone's forgotten what's really important. All they understand is force."

"Yes," Lori murmured. "Yes, indeed."

Lori scooted closer, and when Steve bashfully lifted his arm, she settled happily beneath it. As they drew together her shoulder jostled his shirt pocket and the point of the notebook inside it, and she frowned. "What's that?"

"Oh, sorry." Steve pulled out the notebook and showed it to her. "It's nothing, really. Just something I started carrying with me, in case I wanted to make notes. I still haven't gotten quite used to the phone for that sort of thing."

Lori flipped through the pages, and before Steve could remember that it was in there, she came across a sketch of his Captain America uniform. He blushed preemptively but Lori only smiled, almost nostalgic, and continued until she came to the Morse code scratches he had made at Hammer's lab, and his translation beside it. Her eyes narrowed. "'My name is Loki,'" she read quietly.

"Yeah, that's..." Steve straightened. "Actually, you know all about Loki, don't you?" he recalled. "Norse mythology's trickster god."

Lori hummed noncommittally. "So you and your soldier friends have taken an interest in ancient poetry after all."

"It might be related to the...incident we're investigating." She didn't look interested in discussing it, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity. "Can you tell me anything about him?"

"Like you said, he's a master of tricks," she said. "Always causing trouble for Asgard. Always fixing it, in the end. But it's just fairy tales." She turned the page and came across a sketch of Loki's face that Steve had done the night after seeing him on the security footage. She traced the image with her fingernail. "And this is...?"

"That's...him." Steve idly fingered the shoulder of her dress; just seeing the face filled him with nervous energy. "Or at least, someone calling himself Loki. I probably shouldn't be telling you that, though."

The next page was another picture of Loki, from a different angle, and after that another as he had appeared on the back of the fleeing HYDRA van. Even in pencil his eyes were striking, wide with disbelief and recognition.

"You must be quite taken with him," Lori remarked, amused. "You've drawn him many times."

Steve chuckled in embarrassment. "It's not like that. I've been trying to figure out who he is." The memory put gunfire back in his chest, and though he knew better, he found himself telling Lori anyway. "The first time we met, he looked at me just like that." He indicated the drawing. "Like he knew me. It sounds strange but I felt it. I'm sure we must have met when I was a soldier in the war, but I don't recognize him." He sighed. "I keep trying to remember. I thought maybe if I kept drawing his face it would finally come to me."

Lori smiled down at the notebook as she flipped through all the different faces again. "If you met him during the war, is it not possible that he was an enemy?" she asked. "It might be safer for you not to seek him out."

"Maybe," Steve agreed. "You might be right." He wasn't sure he believed it, though. He still remembered his miraculous survival after being thrown from a speeding vehicle; heat he could now believe might have been magic had cushioned and directed him, delivering him to a safe landing. At the time he had dismissed it as luck and confusion, but Loki's eyes, staring up at him through the security camera, made him think otherwise.

"Whether he is or not, I still need to find him," said Steve. "I need to know who he is." His voice dropped. "Sometimes you can be so homesick that even a familiar enemy is better company than a roomful of strangers."

Lori set the notebook down, along with her glass of water, and turned off the television. When she shifted on the sofa her thigh brushed Steve's and he tensed, remembering all over again where they were and why. He had thought he would be happy enough just to spend the evening chatting, but when Lori turned enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth his body seemed to levitate off the sofa.

"I'm not a stranger to you anymore," she whispered. "Am I?"

"N-No," he stammered. "You're--"

"And I'm not your enemy, either." She kissed him again, her tongue gently teasing his bottom lip. "Am I?"

Steve gulped. He felt as if he were suddenly tingling at every point where they touched. "Of course not..."

They shared several more delicate kisses before Lori pulled back. "Have you considered leaving the military?" she asked in a sudden chance of subjects. "Get out of that 'roomful of strangers' entirely?"

Steve tried not to make a face. "No. Actually, I never have." It was difficult to consider anything seriously with Lori's thigh lying flush with his. "I owe everything to it."

"You shouldn't think of it in those terms," Lori cautioned. "In debts. I'm certain the army is just as fortunate to have you as you are it."

"Maybe, but it's the truth." Steve tried to organize his thoughts into sensible order, but then she set her hand on his knee, and they threatened to scatter once more. "Like I said, I was a skinny little nobody. Probably would have ended up serving ballpark dogs if I didn't get drafted. They gave me everything." He sighed with the memory. "I was meant for something. If I left I'd feel ungrateful."

"They gave you everything, did they?" Lori's smile turned mischievous as she drew her fingernails over the back of his palm. "Such as, these hands?"

The tickling scrape sent goose bumps up his arm. "S-Sort of."

Lori turned toward him, her thigh rubbing against his in the process, and he flinched. "And this?" she asked, squeezing his biceps. " _They_ gave you this?"

"In a...manner of speaking." Steve's mouth went dry. "Though I've worked hard to maintain it."

Lori pushed herself up, and Steve was too stunned to protest when she crawled into his lap. Her knees parted on either side of him and involuntarily he tried to flatten himself against the sofa cushions, weak with disbelief. But then she settled, heavy and warm against his hips, and his heart soared into his throat and ears with a frantic staccato. He froze.

"And this?" Lori purred, her hands on his chest, tracing the lines of his clenched muscles. "All of it?"

Steve could barely breathe. "Y-Yes."

"What if _I_ gave it to you?" she said against his jaw. "Would you tell me you'd never leave me, too?"

"What?"

She hooked her fingers behind his neck and kissed him. It was fiercer than before, even possessive, and Steve leaned back, overwhelmed. He was barely aware of her coaxing his mouth open until her tongue teased against his own. Every wet flicker sent a fresh surge of electricity into his already roiling stomach. When he overcame his shock well enough to reciprocate, cautiously suckling at her tender lips, she replied with a quiet moan of approval.

Steve had never heard a sound like that from a woman--not one that was in his arms, in his mouth, wrapped around him. It lit a fire in his belly and before he knew what he was doing his hands were clenching against her back. He tugged her closer and the heat of her womanhood against his crotch drew him swiftly to full and aching arousal.

"Wait--" Steve eased their kiss apart and tried to escape deeper into the sofa. Embarrassment colored his cheeks and ears. "I'm sorry, this is..." No matter how he squirmed he knew there was no way to hide his eager erection from her. "It's too fast."

"I can go slow," Lori whispered.

She braced her hands against his shoulders. Steve hoped she was climbing off, but then she did something inexplicable: she arched her back and rolled her hips in a slow, rocking motion against his groin. His stomach turned, not unlike the sensation of leaping clear of a falling helicopter. She did it again and Steve was sure he wouldn't survive. He pawed at the folds of her dress over her hips but he didn't dare halt her.

"It's all right," Lori continued to whisper against his slack lips. "I feel it, too. We're connected." Her fingers tangled in his hair so she could hold him still for another long, breath-stealing kiss. "You were made for me."

She squeezed him with her thighs, and when Steve's cock twitched she ground into it. It was mind-expanding. Only half-conscious of what his body was doing Steve slid his hands to her butt and could have died; she was soft, and strong, and she smelled so good he hated himself for living this long without her. Her curved frame fitting itself to him awoke instincts he didn't know he had, and he kissed her hard, taking control. She allowed it, even seemed to revel in it, melting beneath his hands and panting against his jaw.

"Take me," she said, already unbuttoning his shirt. "Take me to your bed."

Steve gasped incredulously. "But this is only..."

"Make love to me." She parted his shirt over his chest, and when she leaned in he could feel the tease of her nipples through her dress. "I'm not alone as long as I have you."

Steve eased her back and they climbed off the sofa together. "This isn't normally how second dates go," he said with a weak chuckle, following her into the bedroom. "Is it?"

"Does it matter?" Lori stopped at the foot of the bed and turned to face him. Her eyes held his as she twisted her arms back, skillfully unzipping her dress. "We're not normal."

She eased the fabric off her shoulders, and the entire dress whispered down her arms, past her waist, down to the floor in a silky puddle. Steve forgot all shame and openly gaped. Another clever flick of her fingers and her bra fluttered away, revealing her full, firm breasts. Her body was perfect, curved in all the right places, her skin so pristine he was afraid to touch it.

"I've never done this before," he breathed.

Lori eased his shirt off his shoulders and then drew her hands down his chest, tickling all the way to his belt buckle. "Shh." With the buckle open and his fly down she slid five long fingers over the swell of his cock. "I've got you."

Steve hissed and felt as if he were contorting beneath the slow caress to his most sensitive organ. Her palm against his cheek was the only support offered him and he clung to it, desperate for the comforting stability of gravity beneath his feet. A slow squeeze almost unraveled him completely; his abdomen tensed and his jaw clenched, pushing his surrender back. 

Lori let him go. The mischief was gone from her face, leaving only her mind-erasing intensity. She stepped gracefully out of her panties and stretched out on the bed. Steve stripped out of his pants and followed. His hands shook and were sweat-slick, his diaphragm was pressing his lungs into his throat, but the thought of not complying terrified him more than the intimidating act before him. She was telling the truth: he felt the connection. He _had_ felt it, even if he couldn't comprehend how he had felt it. He wouldn't be alone if he had her.

She kissed him passionately. He was still clumsy but as their bare skin rubbed atop the bed sheets even that self-consciousness ceased to matter. He had been made for this. There was worship in Lori's every touch and it made him feel almost godly. When she wrapped her legs around him he took one last breath for courage and slid into her.

Steve wasn't prepared for the feeling of her body welcoming his, her arms and legs tight and shuddering around him. She moaned softly in his ear and pleasure rippled down his bare skin. She was tight, and hot, and wet, and she angled perfectly to meet him. Any spiritual compatibility they might have shared suddenly meant nothing in the face of his flesh buried deep inside her. With guilty exhilaration he braced himself and pumped against her again, testing, thrilled by the sweaty friction of their tangled limbs.

Lori's breath caught in her throat. She urged him on with her knees and thighs, her hands locked and almost painful around his shoulders. He thrust into her again, and she shuddered beneath him, and he simmered with pleasure. He felt powerful. He wanted to please her, as any man was meant to please a woman. He made love to her in eager, inexperienced jerks of his hips. When she kissed him he was concentrating too hard to kiss back, but he leaned into her lips, sucking the breath from her lungs. He sped with every gasp and murmur that escaped her, until he was desperate, the bed creaking loudly beneath them, his own voice a feral groan he had never expected was in him.

All at once climax swarmed over him, and he hid his face against her throat, shaking helplessly through each hot pulse. The pull of her flexible legs kept him deep until he was utterly spent and gasping. It took a long time for the haze to lift from his crazed brain, but when it had, he slid out of her with a whimper and pushed weakly up on his elbows.

Lori panted softly as she looked up at him. She sounded exhausted but her eyes were blazing. She touched his face, smoothing his hair back and circling his cheeks, and finally drew him into another fiery kiss. Her fingernails scratched his scalp and she arched into him as eagerly as when they had begun. Steve mumbled happily into her warm mouth but his fatigue wasn't so easily overcome, and he sagged more and more until finally collapsing onto his side next to her.

Lori kissed his lips again, then his cheeks, his temples, his throat. She didn't give him the chance to ask if he had satisfied her but the answer seemed clear enough. When finally her hard kisses ran out they curled close together to regain their breath. The quiet suited Steve much better. He wrapped Lori up in his arms, enjoying the euphoria drawn out by the slow hiss of her breath. She was beautiful and mysterious and she was in awe of him, and even when uncertainty and incredulity threatened to dull his mood, pride held it at bay. Lori was right--what did it matter? This was a modern world. He was determined to hold on to any comforts it offered him.

They dozed in and out of sleep for hours afterwards. Every time Steve thought he was finally drifting off Lori shifted in his embrace, and he remembered all over again that he had just made love for the first time. Overcome with affection he nestled closer to her, and stroked her skin, and whispered kisses against her forehead. She answered with delicate caresses to his chest and stomach. 

Eventually their fleeting touches grew less innocent. Lori was so close, and Steve still thrumming with oversensitivity, and when her thigh graced his resting cock it swelled eagerly to life once more. He blushed bashfully but Lori didn't let him say a word. She stroked it to fullness and then rolled onto her back again.

Steve eagerly reentered her, but before he could fall back into his boyish rhythm Lori turned her lips against his ear. "Shh," she murmured. "Take your time."

Steve gulped. He wanted nothing more than to thrust into her again, swift and masculine, but he fought against instinct for her sake. Trying to mimic her grace from earlier he rolled into her in an easier, steadier rhythm.

"Yes," Lori whispered, and it was a struggle not to let her approval undo his self-control. "Relax, Steven. I'll go nowhere." She carded her fingers through his hair and squeezed him with her thighs--with muscles he didn't know could be squeezed. Stars flashed against his closed eyelids but Lori's whispered encouragements kept him grounded. "You can take your time with me."

He did. He rocked her into the mattress with tempered passion, making every effort to listen for her advice. Her body still made little sense to him but he tried to listen to it, too. The burn in his abdomen threatened constantly to overtake him but he breathed deeply, telling himself, _Not yet, take your time._ Their eyes met, and this time he was certain that she was hypnotizing him. She was the center of the world.

In the end, he succumbed again to stutters and inelegance, but Lori didn't berate him for it. She chuckled and held him close until he came, and when he finally did manage to sleep, it was with his head pillowed against her chest.


	7. Chapter 7

Loki awoke to sunlight streaming through an unfamiliar window. He blinked at it blearily, uncomprehending. A strong arm was draped over his stomach and for a moment he thought he was back in Asgard, having taken his female disguise for a night of tricking honest young soldiers, or perhaps fulfilling one's fantasies. How long had it been, since he last indulged in such childish games? Then a car horn blared from the street below and he remembered.

"It's stupid," Loki murmured. "I can't go back."

Steve grumbled beside him, and he tensed, making certain that his spell hadn't worn off. He was still female. With a groan he stretched his back and twisted just enough to see his companion. Steve was asleep on his side, face crushed against his pillow, still naked. His face was peaceful, and Loki watched it for a long while, contemplative.

 _He will not thank you for it,_ Heimdall's voice rumbled back to him across a span of ages.

Loki stroked Steve's cheek with the back of his hand, and Steve smiled in his sleep. He was ever a thing of beauty by Loki's estimation. Whatever he might have lacked in perception he made up for in every possible way. From his strength to his appearance to his sharp, tactical mind he was what any Asgardian ought to have been and more so, and he was born of Loki. Of Loki Laufeyson.

Loki's eyes narrowed. Nearly a century previous his victory that was Steve Rogers had meant something very different, but new knowledge changed everything. Steve was not a child of Asgardian blood. His strength was a giant's strength, his longevity granted by eons of evolution in the wastes of Jotunheim. His golden hair and godlike prowess were a cleverer disguise than Loki had ever sported. He was deception in all forms, a fitting companion for such a master. And it made Loki ache to wonder what Steve would say and think, if he knew.

"Truth is poison," Loki murmured, stroking the line of Steve's eyebrows with the back of one knuckle. "Let me be a god of lies."

Steve opened his eyes. He looked younger than even his short years, awed and vulnerable in the early morning light. He smiled at Loki, but as sleep wore off and his focus returned, a frown creased his brow. "Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He rubbed his eyes and looked again. "I don't know, you just looked...sad, for a minute there."

Loki didn't know what to make of that, so he rolled into Steve and tucked himself under his chin. "I'm only tired."

Steve's fingers trailed up and down Loki's back as they resettled closer together. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I knew it was too soon, I shouldn't have--"

"Oh, shush." Loki wriggled against him, and smiled when their nipples brushing made Steve shiver. "I regret nothing. I might even be persuaded to go again."

He felt Steve swallow. "Again?"

"And again." Loki sucked at his Adam's apple. "And again..."

Steve mumbled something unintelligible, but before either of them could become heated, they were distracted by a phone ringing from the floor.

"Oh geez," Steve grumbled. "That's probably Agent Coulson..." He kissed Loki's forehead and then crawled to the foot of the bed so he could reach into his discarded clothing. "Just a second."

Loki propped himself up on his elbow and watched as Steve made clumsy apologies to his CO. He closed his eyes briefly, testing his magic--it had been a while since he'd spent so many hours in disguise but he was certain he could manage longer. With Synthia having been put to work with Dr. Yeon and her scientists, only Hammer awaited him at the hotel and Loki had no qualms in making him wait. 

"Thank you, sir," Steve said and then hung up. He looked over his shoulder. "Sorry about that."

Loki crawled down the bed to join him. "Is he upset you missed your curfew?" she asked.

"No. The Director, on the other hand..." When she was close enough, he leaned to one side and touched her waist, gingerly, as if he needed permission. "I'll worry about that later. For now, Agent Coulson said it's all right if I take my time coming in."

"Good." Loki leaned in to kiss him. "Then let's stay right here."

They twisted on the mattress together, sharing long, lazy kisses, their feet shoving at the pillows. Steve's bashfulness was charming at first, but Loki preferred his strength, and he did his best to coax it out of him. "How do you feel?" he asked, teasing Steve's chest and stomach. "Now that you've had a woman?"

Steve chuckled breathlessly. "I'm not sure," he admitted. When Loki dipped to nibble at his collar bones, Steve sighed and ran slow fingers through his hair. "It's not quite what I thought. I feel...awake. Like parts of me have woken up I didn't know were there."

Loki hummed and reached for his cock. Even the lightest touches made Steve twitch and moan, and Loki smirked, sucking the tiny noises of pleasure off Steve's lips.

"Parts like this?" he teased.

"Yes," Steve wheezed, his fingers tangling in Loki's hair as he kissed him again and again, intoxicated and addicted.

"You have a soldier's stamina, that much is certain," Loki said as he urged Steve onto his back. He kissed a path down Steve's chest and stomach, grinning to himself with every hitch of the muscles beneath his lips. "Like a boy."

"Making up for lost time, I guess," Steve said with a chuckle.

Loki turned his mouth on Steve's cock, taking it in deep. He had never lavished his attentions on a more grateful partner; Steve's groans of approval sounded almost pained, and his hands trembled over Loki's face, hair, and throat. He was overwhelmed and he didn't know what to do with himself, and it would have been merciful to simply let him come. Loki was not feeling merciful.

"Shh," Loki soothed, crawling up to Steve's lips again. He kissed him, and heedless to the taste Steve kissed him back, simmering with desperation as Loki positioned his body. "I've got you. I've got you."

Loki braced his hands to Steve's stomach and leaned back, taking him in. Even having felt it twice before he marveled at his lover's size and squeezed them tightly together to better feel the throbbing connection. "Let me take care of you," he whispered, and with expert control began to move.

Steve's hands snapped to Loki's thighs. At first he tried to hurry Loki on, sweating and almost frantic, but Loki refused to be deterred. He rode Steve at his own steady pace, and only when he was certain that Steve was learning discipline did he encourage him to move as well. He even paused long enough to reposition them closer to the top of the bed so that Steve could brace his feet against the headboard. The leverage was just what he needed. With his fingers digging into Loki's waist Steve pumped up into him with greater control than his previous attempts, until they were moving together like old lovers in a practiced, ever-quickening rhythm. Loki had to fight hard to keep his concentration on his disguise while Steve unraveled him from the inside out and left him quivering with pleasure.

Loki climaxed twice before Steve was through with him, and they collapsed together, dizzy but still somehow exhilarated. "You are a fast learner, Steven," Loki complimented breathlessly. "I knew you would be godly."

Steve didn't answer. He was still enraptured, touching every part of Loki he could, wrapping him up. He had tasted real lust for the first time and Loki knew it would take some time for him to be satiated.

They stayed in bed for the next three hours, lazily kissing, dozing off, making love when their strength returned. It was foolish and exhausting and wonderful, until Steve finally hit his limit and all but passed out. Still Loki leaned into him, kissing the broad, sweat-slick span of his back, no usable thought in his brain.

And then Steve mumbled, "Do you really have to leave when your business is done?"

Loki froze, his lips hovering above the nape of Steve's neck. "I'm sorry?"

Steve tried to roll over, but Loki's weight was too much of a burden for his weary body to manage. He slumped onto his chest again. "You said you'd have to leave eventually. Do you have to?"

Loki sat up, but he kept both hands on Steve's back in case he tried to roll over again. He wasn't sure he could keep the panic out of his face. Steve's words reverberated through his skull. _Do you have to do this?_

Hammer was waiting at the hotel, bent over his desk, tinkering. Johanna was waiting in Callicoon with her soldiers and scientists, preparing them for the trek to Hammer's base several states away. They were all waiting on his order, his plan to recapture the Tesseract and then... He couldn't remember what came next. It had all made sense until Steve questioned, and suddenly all he could think was, _Why?_ He owed HYDRA nothing. Midgard itself was a limping dog but he had no need to be its keeper, no obligation.

Loki's hands tightened against Steve's shoulders. He could stay. He could tell Steve the truth, or not, and simply...stay. To hell with Asgard and Midgard and all the realms in between.

He licked his lips, still trying to form an answer, when Steve's phone rang again. Steve grunted but didn't even bother to try and retrieve it. "I can't reach it," he mumbled.

Loki crawled to the edge and plucked it up. He answered and pressed the phone to Steve's ear. "Here."

Steve sighed. "Hello?"

"Steve?" The phone was placed loosely enough that Loki could hear a woman's voice through the line. "Steve, it's me. Where are you? You have to come to the lab, right now."

Steve grumbled and managed to take the phone from Loki. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong--it's the cube!" Loki stiffened and realized he knew the voice--it was Jane Foster. "We were able to synchronize it with the bridging device, and it worked! Only for a second, but it worked. We made _contact_ , Steve."

Steve rubbed his eyes and fought for his clarity. "Jane, slow down. You contacted what?" Loki leaned closer so he would still be able to hear.

"The bridge opened," Jane continued excitedly. "Like I said it only lasted for a second, but we saw someone on the other side. It was a man--he looked right at me! And he had dark skin, and he was wearing golden armor, like a Viking or something. It was incredible!"

Loki recoiled. His body went numb, and as Steve sleepily repeated Jane's news he clamored off the bed and rushed to the window. Without a thought to his naked state he threw the curtains open and stared out, up at the cloudy sky.

"Lori?" Loki could hear Steve struggling off the bed. "Okay, okay. Yes, I believe you. I'll be there as soon as I--" His feet thudded on the floor and he stumbled, laughing. "I can't feel my legs. No--no, I'm fine. I'll be there."

Loki pressed his shaking hands to the glass and closed his eyes. He waited breathlessly for the tell-tale hum to pass through his ears: the tingle that he had learned to sense whenever Heimdall's eye was upon him. If the Midgardians had made contact Heimdall was sure to have seen the source, and he would finally search--he would stretch his eye out for his missing prince. With the mortal's new bridge constructed he would call for Odin, and Thor, and they would descend from the rainbows and come for him.

"Lori?" Steve touched his back, but then there was a heavy knock from the apartment door, and with a muttered curse Steve grabbed up his pants and left the bedroom to go answer it.

Loki shivered against the window. He waited, up on his toes, to feel it. His shoulders hunched and he wanted to cry out, _I'm here! Turn your eye on me, Gatekeeper. Tell Father I'm alive. Tell them!_ But he felt nothing. As Steve greeted Agent Coulson at the door Loki's pleas fell far short, and with a sound of pain he turned away.

"I said you could take your time, but it's almost noon," Coulson scolded with fatherly amusement. "You're needed at the base."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

Loki yanked on his undergarments and dress, cursing as he twisted his arms back to fasten the zipper. As he left the bedroom both men looked up, and Coulson might have said something, but Loki ignored them and moved immediately to retrieve his purse. It wasn't until he reached the door that he acknowledged them with a half-frantic, "I have to go."

Steve frowned. He still looked mostly asleep but his face was bright red as he glanced between Coulson's half smirk and Lori's harried face. "Are you all right? Do you want us to drop you off?"

"No." Loki pulled his shoes on and almost stumbled. "I'm sorry--I have to leave." 

She tried to push past them but was stopped by Steve's arm around her waist. "Wait--what's the matter?" His blush made way for concern. "Are you..."

"I'm fine," Loki said, and he smiled in a way he hoped was convincing. "I didn't realize it was this late. Please, just..." He touched Steve's cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips. "I'll call you."

And he fled.

***

Loki stormed into the hotel room with his phone already at his ear. "We have to reclaim the Tesseract as soon as possible," he said, slamming the door behind him. "Synthia gave you the location, did she not? The base is located on the end of the peninsula but you will not be able to reach it from the road. You will instruct your soldiers to approach from the south and wait beyond S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reach for my signal. No earlier or later than sunrise tomorrow, do you understand?"

"I understand," said Johanna. "But what's happened?"

"The mortals have gained access to the Tesseract sooner than I anticipated." Loki tossed his purse on the bed and glanced in Hammer's direction. He was seated at the table, as expected, tinkering again. "We must retrieve it before they manage anything greater. Have your soldiers ready by sunrise." He hung up and threw the phone onto the bed as well. 

"Welcome home," Hammer greeted. His nose wrinkled. "Wild night?"

Loki scowled and headed for the washroom. "You heard. We attack S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base tomorrow morning." He stripped out of his dress on the way, leaving it where it fell. "Have you completed your camera?"

"Yeah, three of them." Hammer cautiously followed, though he knew better than to try and peek through the partially open door. "They have a great range, too. But uh, where exactly am I going to be for this...?"

Loki stripped out of his undergarments. "You will control them from here," he said. "There is a good chance that S.H.I.E.L.D. will notice your devices and attempt to shoot them down. I will do what I can to protect them. It's about time the mortals--all of them--see what I am capable of."

"Oh, yeah. Hell yeah." Hammer fidgeted while Loki turned on the shower. "But if I'm here, and everyone else is out there..." He laughed nervously. "You wouldn't leave me behind, right? I still can't exactly leave this room by myself without..."

Loki frowned intensely. "I will not leave you behind," he said. "But you must remain here. Once I have the Tesseract you will be of no use to us, and I would rather not leave you alone with Johanna, should she realize as much. Now leave me be." He slammed the door and climbed into the shower.

The water helped. Loki scrubbed himself clean and then took his time, hoping the spray would ease the tension out of him. To Asgard he was dead--there was no reason for Heimdall to search for him, so he told himself over and over. It did little to calm his bitterness. After all their struggle, anger, and despair, was his brother so eager to let him sink into the void without even a second glance? Loki knew in his heart that the fault was his, but he couldn't reject Thor's forgiveness or even endure his wrath if no one bothered to learn that he was alive.

Loki turned his face upward. The droplets splattering against his eyelids and lips reminded him of space racing past as he floundered alone between the realms. He had fought hard for his survival; he did not need to be validated by anyone. He did not seek rescue or redemption--could not trick himself into believing either could be his to have anyway. It was too late and there was no going back. Even Steve had said so. Neither of them was going home.

"I had some lunch ordered," said Hammer as Loki emerged from the bathroom. "It's not much; the food here is ghastly. But..." He smirked to himself when Loki seated himself at the table and began to eat. "Help yourself. Um...are you going to stay like that?"

Loki adjusted the towels wrapping him to better cover his naked breasts. "For a while, yes." Hammer continued to stare, so he elaborated. "S.H.I.E.L.D. managed to open a gate to Asgard. This disguise will help hide me from the Gatekeeper, or any other Asgardian that may cross through." His gaze flickered to the window. "They will know that I am here only when I wish them to, and not a moment sooner. Eat your meal," he snapped when he realized that Hammer was _still_ staring. "Then you will show me how your devices work."

Hammer did so, though after only a few bites he asked, "What are you doing to do about your guy? Captain Rogers? Are you really going to attack the base while he's there?"

"Why shouldn't I?" said Loki without looking up.

"Well, aren't you and he...?" Hammer stifled a grin behind his hand. "Don't tell me you were gone all night on just recon." Loki shot him a stern glare, and he shrank a little beneath it. "Hey, don't worry--I'm not going to tell Johanna or anything. That's all...your business. You handle it."

"I _will_ handle it. And you will mind your own business."

Hammer shrugged and went back to eating.

***

"Steve? Are you listening?"

Steve jolted in his chair. They were in the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room, Jane at the front of the room, everyone seated around the oval table. They stared at him. "Yeah, sorry," he said awkwardly. He rubbed his face. "This is all just...a little technical for me."

Usually Steve bringing up his remaining clumsiness with technology elicited sympathy; now all he got were raised eyebrows. He cleared his throat. "You were talking about Thor?"

"Heimdall," Jane corrected him. "According to Thor, Heimdall is Asgard's gatekeeper that controls the Bifrost: what we would call the Einstein-Rosen Bridge." When Steve and Clint both regarded her blankly, she explained. "The wormhole through space. I don't know if that's who we saw, but it's an educated guess."

"But he saw you, right?" said Clint. "So whoever these aliens are, they know we're looking for them. And they haven't tried calling back?"

Jane's shoulders fell. "No. Even though we're coming to understand how the bridge can be opened from this side, we still have no idea how the Asgardians manage it. It could be that they've having difficulties we don't know about." Her expression grew increasingly grim. "We know that Asgard was in some kind of danger from Loki, which is why Thor had to go back. But we have no way of knowing what went on there."

"Except that now Loki is _here_ ," took over Fury. "Working with HYDRA and Hammer. It doesn't seem like winning-party-behavior to me."

Steve frowned up at the screen that still displayed the images captured from the experiment. The broad-shouldered "god" peering back at them through a haze of rainbow lights didn't look anything like the narrow, pale-faced trickster that had smiled up at Steve through a security camera. "Is that why he's after the cube?" Steve asked thoughtfully. "As far as we know, that cube used to belong to the gods. Maybe he's just been ordered to bring it back, as some kind of penance...?"

Everyone stared again. "And what would make you think that?" asked Fury.

"Well, I heard from..." Steve caught himself just in time. "...the internet, Loki is a god of mischief, not war. He always fixes the problems he makes."

"Up until bringing about the end of the world," said Erik. "But those are just legends anyway. We can't put any stock in those fairy tales."

Jane shook her head. "Yes, but some part of them is true. We _are_ talking about living gods, after all."

"All right," said Fury, bringing everyone's attention back in. "What is the bottom line?"

Jane deferred to Tony, who didn't bother to stand. "We fried out some of the equipment with this morning's experiment." He shrugged. "The casing used to transfer the cube's energy just isn't strong enough. I'm going to need to synthesize more vibranium in order to keep the whole rig from blowing itself sky high next time we use it."

"And you have what you need to do that?"

"Sure." Tony's lip twitched. "I mean, yes, sir."

They agreed that the next test should be conducted with the rest of the "team" present and were dismissed. Steve was eager to get to the cafeteria for a badly-needed meal, and maybe even some privacy so he could call Lori, but Coulson got to him first. "Captain, there's something you should know," he said, and he tugged Steve to the empty end of the hallway. "About your friend Ms. Skjoldr."

Steve straightened. "What?" 

"I did a background check on her," said Coulson, immediately raising Steve's hackles. "I wanted to be sure, that's all."

"Sure of what?" Steve asked more sharply than he'd intended.

"Captain, it's protocol. I had to." He took in a deep breath. "And I didn't find anything."

Steve started to relax until he realized that Coulson was still grim. "What does that mean?"

"It means there's no record of her, anywhere." Coulson showed off the display on his phone and its blinking red ERROR message. "I've looked into every university and museum in the area, and they have no one specializing in Scandinavian history named Lori Skjoldr. No one by that name is staying at the hotel you gave me, either."

Steve felt his ears burning. "She's here on business. Someone else could have comped the room, like a boss or something. Or maybe you didn't spell her name right..."

Coulson handed the phone over for Steve to check; it was correct. "Maybe I didn't hear her right when she spelled it for me," he persisted.

"When are you going to see her again?" Coulson asked gently.

"I don't know. We didn't make plans." Anger and confusion itched under his skin. "What exactly are you trying to say, Agent Coulson? You think she's a spy?"

Coulson held his hand up. "I'm not saying that."

"Then what _are_ you saying?"

"I'm only saying, you should be careful." He let his hand fall. "If you're going to see her again, I'd like to have a few words with her first," he said. "So we can clear up any confusion before this goes...any further."

Steve grimaced. "All right. I'll tell her." He took a step back. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yes, for now."

Steve turned on his heel and left. As soon as he was out in the courtyard he dialed Lori's number. There was no answer.

***

Loki stayed in his disguise for rest of that day. He was restless, one eye on the window as Hammer showed him the basic controls for the devices he had built. Over and over he tried to plan for what he would do if the heavens opened and his brother descended from them, Mjolnir in hand, vengeance in his heart. Odin would have told him the truth about Loki's heritage and he would be furious, or worse yet, pitying. The thought was insufferable and Loki gave up trying to predict how he would react when the moment came.

Twice Steve called, and twice Loki ignored it. Even when the phone reported having recorded a message, Loki threw it on the bed and refused to listen. Steve would have to know the truth as well. Like so many times before he had come to the point when there was no option but to confess, and still he hesitated. If only he could stall for a little more time. If only he could have one more night, he would find a perfect solution to mend every wrong.

By the time night fell, Loki knew it would be unwise to stay in his disguise any longer. His magic was wearing thin and he would need it for the assault on S.H.I.E.L.D. he was preparing for. But when he tried to undo his transformation, something twisted violently in his gut that left him doubled over, gagging and breathless.

Hammer jumped up from the table. "Whoa, whoa. You all right?"

Loki braced himself against the television stand. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to trace the source of his distress, but everything felt normal until he tried again to become male. Pain rippled out from his center unlike anything he'd felt for years. His stomach lurched and he clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Hey, hold on, hold on, not here!" Hammer took him by the shoulders and steered him quickly into the washroom, just in time. Loki's knees gave out and he dropped in front of the toilet and vomited. It wasn't until his stomach was empty that he realized Hammer was still beside him, holding his hair back.

"Well, it came a few hours late, but that's what you get for staying out all night," Hammer teased. "Did you get it all out?"

"Be quiet," Loki croaked. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and tried one more time. The pain came again, even more intense than before, but as he retched it occurred to him that it was not his body protesting. Something deeper and instinctual was railing against his magic. It made the room spin and he covered his eyes, trying to block it out. "Water."

Hammer twisted Loki's hair and tucked it into the back of his dress. "Hold on..." His humor faded as he filled a glass and handed it over. "Are you okay?"

Loki took a tentative sip, and when his stomach didn't complain he drank down the rest. "Something's wrong," he said as he leaned back against the washroom wall. "I can't revert back."

Hammer crouched down opposite him. "You mean, back to being a man?" He forced a smile. "Well that's not so bad, is it?"

Loki was too distracted to berate Hammer's attempt at a joke. With eyes still closed he traced the source of the ache, feeling out the seams of his magic. Spells had always come naturally to him, and if his instincts were warning so violently it deserved serious attention. "It's fighting me," he murmured. "It hasn't done that since I first started teaching myself as a boy."

Hammer squirmed. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Loki didn't know. He almost said as much, and it frightened him. His magic was weary from being put to work for so long; he could feel the pulse of strain between his temples that came when he overextended himself. The transformation should have peeled away as easily as any piece of clothing. He was too nervous to try again, and as he wrapped his arms around his stomach a horrible thought came over him: it might have been Odin. Someone was trying to bind him from casting spells, and his magic was crashing against woven seals. Panic replaced nausea and he clawed to his feet, nearly shoving Hammer to the floor in the process.

"Hey--hey! The hell is going on?"

Loki stumbled into the main room and to the window. Outside, the city whirled on in the same hectic order as ever. There was no shimmering Bifrost light, no Asgardian royalty. He pressed his hands to the glass and waited to feel Heimdall's eye, but as before there was nothing. He was still alone, and he wanted strong arms around him, a broad chest to lean into.

"Come on, you're starting to weird me out here," Hammer whined. "Can you at least tell me--"

Loki waved dismissively, cutting off Hammer's voice with an involuntary spell. As Hammer flapped his jaws in soundless anger Loki managed to relax for a moment. If he could still lay curses, he was not being bound by an outside force. Rubbing his sore abdomen, he turned away from the window and released Hammer's voice.

"--be that time of the month, now that you've been spending so much time as a woman," Hammer blurted out, and then retreated several steps as if startled to hear his own voice.

Loki's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." Hammer continued to back away with hands raised. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure you've got this handled."

Loki advanced on him. "Tell me what you said," he demanded. " _Right now_."

Hammer recoiled, stumbling over his own feet and falling against the side of the bed long before Loki reached him. "You're a woman now," he said helplessly. "They have woman problems--I don't know--I've never been one."

Loki stopped short of reaching him. "Woman problems," he repeated, and without realizing his hand went to his abdomen again. 

Hammer saw it, and his eyes narrowed, then went wide. "No," he said.

Loki shook his head. He wasn't even sure what Hammer was suggesting at first. But when he closed his eyes again he could feel the different frequency inside him, as if a tiny spark of magic was trying to form. "It's not possible," he murmured.

"No," Hammer said again. He gave that frail laugh that Loki had become so used to already. "No, you're really joking this time."

When Loki opened his eyes the hotel room smeared across his weary vision. "It's not possible." He stumbled back into the television cabinet and had to cling to it for stability. He felt as if gravity were reversing beneath his feet, sending the blood rushing _down_ into his skull. In desperation he tried one more time. His hair shortened, his palms widened, but when he tried to spread the change through his internal organs a thousand pinpoints of light exploded behind his eyes, and the next moment he was half collapsed in Hammer's arms, shaking and gagging all over again.

"Stop!" Hammer got an arm around Loki's waist and shuffled him into one of the hotel chairs. "Stop, you're hurting yourself," he said, sounding honestly concerned. "Calm down; you're overreacting." He stepped away, and when he returned it was with a fresh glass of water. "Seriously, it's been, what, less than twenty-four hours? Depending on when you got started, I guess. No one knows that fast, my man, no one. Come on; drink up."

Loki did so, but the water was little comfort. "Something is wrong," he insisted weakly, hating himself for confiding in someone like Hammer. He had no other choice. "I cannot maintain this transformation indefinitely. My magic has limits. When I can't hold it any longer, it will fail."

"What are you afraid will happen?" Hammer pulled the second chair around and took a seat. "You really think you're..." His gaze flicked to Loki's abdomen. "Think there's something, uh, going on? In there?"

"I don't know." Loki leaned over his knees. His hands were shaking and he thought unwittingly of the first time a spell had backfired on him, centuries past. He couldn't recall which spell had caused it, only that he had spent the night wrapped in his mother's arms, soothed by gentle petting. He hadn't thought of Frigga in days.

"Hey..." Hammer touched his hand, and though Loki flinched back at first, he allowed it. "Look, we've got a top notch genetics team all lined up," he said quietly. "I'm sure they would kill to take a look at you, and we'll get it sorted out. Just don't make yourself sick over something you don't even know is there yet, all right?"

Loki eyed him sideways. "You sound as if you've practiced this," he accused.

Hammer shrugged. "Not my first baby-scare."

Even the word was enough to make Loki nauseous again. He took another gulp of the water and then set it aside so he could rub his face with both hands. He'd felt humiliation before. He had spent all that day in doubt and anxiety, but here was one last cruelty thrown at his door. 

"No," he said. "No, I cannot ask the scientists." He smoothed his hair back and sat up, a deep breath grounding him. "Johanna mustn't know. She has worshipped Schmidt longer than me, and if she were to find out...if it were true..."

"Yeahhh, she'd be pissed," Hammer finished. "If it really turned out you were having _Captain America's_ kid."

Loki flinched. The words reverberated in his ears a sudden inspiration formed. "Captain America's child," he said. He pressed his hand to his belly and still could be certain of nothing, but the ill ease was already ebbing away. "A child to Midgard's greatest warrior...and its god."

Hammer leaned back. "You're not thinking..."

Loki pushed to his feet and began to pace. "HYDRA is full of fools," he said with fresh energy. "Johanna must be replaced as soon as I have no need of her. With the Tesseract my power will be absolute, but I need one thing more." He glared at Hammer. "Do you know what I'm speaking of?"

"A...figurehead?" Hammer suggested. "You do realize you _first_ have to--"

"I will need a symbol," Loki carried on. "A champion, a...a bridge." He scowled at having to use the word. "Something that you mortals can aspire to. A half-breed child..." He took in a slow breath. "Odin was right to fear such a child. And a son of a warrior, no less. It may very well be that the serum alone is what made it possible. _Fate_ , Justin Hammer. Can you not see? How else could everything coalesce so perfectly?"

"Coalesce into...what?" Hammer regarded him blankly. "You were throwing up a minute ago."

Loki sighed. "Perhaps not perfectly," he said. "Seeing that only _you_ are here to see it unfold."

"I'm really not sure you've thought this through. No one even knows about your boy anymore; they don't care if he has kids. And _he_ doesn't even know who you really are." Hammer made a face. "You think he'll just be... _okay,_ with this?"

Loki stopped pacing. He didn't want to think it through yet. There was no going back, only forward, and if he paused for too long he was sure panic would catch up to him. "It doesn't matter what he is," he said distractedly. "You were..." He made a sour face. "...right. I can't even be certain yet. Once I have the Tesseract..."

He swayed on his feet. Hammer stood, ready to offer assistance, but Loki dismissed him and managed to sink onto the bed. His head was buzzing with excitement and fatigue, crashing together, making him dizzy all over again. "I need to rest," he murmured. "Conserve my strength for tomorrow." He rolled onto his stomach, but shot Hammer a stern look before he could relax. "Not one word to Johanna."

"Not one word," Hammer agreed.

Loki closed his eyes. He could hear Hammer moving between the room and the bathroom, followed by the tap of a fresh glass of water on the nightstand.

***

When all else failed, Steve went to the water. The wind was cool and sharp, whipping out of the north, and he spent several minutes gauging its speed and strength against his face. Once he was confident that it was holding steady, he hefted his shield. Its weight was familiar, and it felt good just to savor it for a while. When he moved it was suddenly, his entire body spurring to life with the fluid expertise of an Olympic athlete. He felt the energy rise from his toes, up his muscles in a smooth line to his arm, and the shield sprang from his hand. It sailed out over the bay in a long, high curve, as light and effortless as a Frisbee. The wind drew it home and he caught it with both hands, just to be sure.

Someone whistled behind him, and Steve glanced back. Tony was headed his way, hands in his pockets, a smirk twerking his lips. "Careful you don't lose that," Tony teased. "Rarest metal on earth."

"You can't have my vibranium, Mr. Stark," Steve replied.

Tony hopped over the concrete partition that separated the base from the shore and came closer. "I considered arm wrestling you for it, but it just didn't seem fair."

"You said you can make more."

Steve stretched his arms and shoulders and then braced his feet, flinging his shield into the distance again. It had a better spin on it than the last time, and it swerved back into Steve's hand in half the time. Tony winced at the sound it made against the inside of his palm, but Steve barely felt the sting. It was just like welcoming a part of his body back into place.

Tony stopped next to him, though he gave him a wide berth. "You haven't heard from her, huh?"

Steve shook his head. He had given up wondering how Tony knew so much. "I was never very good with women. I don't know why I thought I'd do any better in a new time." He gave the shield a light toss, watching its star pattern spin. "Agent Coulson thinks she's a spy."

"So does Director Fury," said Tony. "He's got eyes on her hotel."

"What?" Steve caught the shield and turned to stare. Though he had his misgivings, knowing that others were suspicious still drew only ire from him. "He's spying on her?"

"Just watching her comings and goings, as far as I know." Tony offered a dry smile. "You didn't really think they'd let their best lab rat sleep around without keeping an eye on the lucky lady, did you?"

Steve flung his shield into the sand; the beach was hard, but the shield cut easily through and stood at strict attention. "And you know this _how_?" he said, crossing the few paces between them.

Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Don't shoot the messenger."

He tapped on the screen a few times with his thumb, and then Lori's voice issued from the speaker. " _I'm going to be very busy with my work for a while_ ," she said.

Steve reached for the phone. Tony relinquished it without a fight, saying, "Please don't break it--it won't do any good."

The date and time of the conversation crawled across the screen. Steve stared at it for a long moment, tense and disbelieving, until he figured out how to scroll back. "You bugged my phone."

"Fury had me install a nanny app on it before I gave it to you," Tony explained. "So he could keep tabs on you."

Steve didn't realize he was clenching his jaw until it had begun to ache. "You've been spying on me," he said, with a great effort for restraint. "The director I can understand, but you?" He took another step closer and Tony leaned back. "Why?"

To his credit, Tony looked suitably uncomfortable. "Fury was going to do it anyway. I didn't like the idea of him and his black suit brigade holding that over _anyone_. So I figured I'd keep an ear in until--"

"Until you had a good enough reason to fill me in on it?" Scowling, Steve flung the phone into the sand. "I don't need any favors from you."

He stalked back to his shield while Tony retrieved and dusted off his phone. After a lot of shaking and blowing, Tony said, "Maybe not. But I can tell you what they found out."

Steve swallowed hard as he turned the shield over and over in his hands. He changed his mind several times before asking, "What?"

"She checked in as Lori Scarbo, but that name is a dead end in terms of records." Tony fidgeted. "And they know someone else is staying in the room with her, but they haven't been able to get an ID. They're pretty sure it's a man."

Steve stared fixedly at the tiny imperfections marring the otherwise flawless star and stripes. S.H.I.E.L.D. had done a fine job restoring it, but he could still feel out the rough patches where bullets had raked its first coat of paint clear. He tried to remember where each one had come from.

"I'm sorry," Tony said awkwardly.

"No." Steve took in a deep breath. "No, it's not what you're thinking. She wouldn't."

"Maybe she's not a spy," said Tony. "Fury could be jumping the gun on that one, but Rogers, no one books a hotel under a false name unless--"

"You're wrong," Steve interrupted. "I know it's not like that. I'm sure she...has a reason." His mind wasn't doing a very decent job of coming up with one, but he trusted one was there. "I know I haven't known her long, but she's not like other women. She understands what I'm going through. We have a... a connection. It's not..."

He glanced back and grimaced at the strained, sympathetic look Tony was fixing him with. "I don't expect you to understand," he insisted. "You don't even know her. Not like..." His confidence faltered with every word, and he tried to hide it by hefting the shield again. "Like I do."

Tony smiled. "It's when you think you know a woman that they've really got you by the balls," he warned. He turned back toward the base. "Just make sure you use protection, eh Rogers?"

Steve launched the shield, but his hand slipped. He had only a few seconds to nervously contemplate Tony's words before his priceless military equipment finished its elegant curve and disappeared beneath the waves with a quiet splash.

Tony groaned. " _Rogers_."

Steve rubbed his eyes. "I've got it." He kicked his socks and shoes off and stripped out of his shirt.

Tony watched him march down to the water's edge. "Should I bring a flashlight?"

"I've got it!" Steve grunted. The water was freezing against his bare ankles but he didn't flinch. It was even a relief. After taking a moment to memorize exactly where the shield had landed and calculate its angle, Steve took a deep breath and plunged into the water. 


	8. Chapter 8

Tony Stark left his temporary residence at Stark Tower promptly at eight in the morning. His car was waiting for him, as were his driver and assistant. They chatted lazily all through the drive out of Manhattan, completely unaware of Loki nestled in the passenger seat.

His magic had all but reached its limit. Strain pulsed between his temples and he had to keep his eyes closed to maintain his concentration against the blare of the city. It was easier once they were in the tunnel. Staying invisible was simple enough for someone so well practiced; it was the transformation that was taxing him into exhaustion. After expending a great deal of effort Loki had managed to become mostly himself in all physical aspects except for his internal organs. Though he felt some degree of pride at having completed the spell at all, he knew he wouldn't be able to sustain it much longer.

It might have been easier to remain as Lori throughout the ordeal, but with discovery possible at any moment, he would not risk it.

He shifted his purse in his lap. Inside, Hammer's three video devices were charged and waiting. Hammer himself waited in the hotel, and Johanna and her soldiers were in position just far enough out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s range to avoid detection. The trap was set and all that remained was for him to spring it, assuming he could maintain his disguise until then. Assuming no bridges opened before him.

They passed through the checkpoints with ease, and as Tony and Pepper made plans and said their goodbyes for the day, Loki slipped out of the passenger door. Only the driver noticed its unprompted open and close, and though he investigated, Loki had no fear of being found out by such a simpleton. He moved swiftly out of the underground parking, past the security gates, and into S.H.I.E.L.D. Central's open courtyard.

There was a breeze that morning. It was carrying a line of low-hanging clouds straight toward them, and Loki grimaced, trying not to let it intimidate him. He told himself that if the Bifrost had been opened in full, he would have sensed it. There was no God of Thunder to fear.

Loki set his purse down on a concrete partition and removed the three cameras. Each was activated with a button, and he nodded to himself with approval as three red lights gleamed back at him. "Can you hear me, Justin Hammer?" he asked the first. 

A small flashlight set into the base blinked on and then off to indicate he had. "Good," said Loki. "I think I'll keep number one with me." He tossed his purse under a bush and tucked the device under his arm. "Get as much as you can, because I intend to perform well." As he turned away, the remaining two cameras started their rotating blades and rose into the air with quiet hums.

Tony Stark emerged from the parking garage and headed for the science building. Loki easily fell into step behind him. He could smell the arc reactor on Tony, and it made his palms itch with an almost hungry sensation. The power emitted by the device was so similar to that of the Tesseract that Loki suspected he could manipulate it with enough effort, but such an attempt would certainly alert its host. Though it grated on him, he refrained from experimenting.

As they passed through the entrance to the science building Loki glanced back, wondering where in the base Steve might have been.

***

"Pull!" shouted Clint.

Steve made a face as he swung his arm. His shield leapt out of his grip, soaring in a high, slightly wobbly arch over the shooting range. The wobble was intentional, of course. Clint traced the shield's curve with a keen eye, and when he was ready, released his arrow. Despite the speed and distance of the flying objects, both men clearly saw when the arrow's tip struck a perfect bulls-eye to the center of the shield's white star. Steve whistled.

"Got any more trick shots for me?" said Clint as they headed for the fallen projectiles. Steve's answer was cut short, however, by a jingle from Clint's phone. He shouldered his bow and answered. "This is Barton." He paused. "Wait, what? Hold on, say that again--I've got Rogers with me."

He clicked the phone to speaker, and Steve moved closer to better hear. "We've picked up some kind of wireless signal," said Agent Coulson. "It looks to be an encoded transmission of some kind, originating within the base."

"What base?" asked Clint.

" _This_ base. Someone is sending out an unauthorized signal. I need you to locate it."

Steve tensed. "You think there's an intruder?"

"It's too soon to say," said Coulson. "But we're trying to get everyone back to their proper departments, quietly." He paused. "Hold on. Agent Hill was able to get a look at what's being sent. We haven't figured out yet where it's going, but this should help you find whoever's responsible."

A window opened on Clint's phone, showing a bird's-eye view of Central's administration building. "That's the south wall," said Steve. "Whatever it is, it's in the air."

"I'll call you back once we have it, sir," said Clint, and he hung up. 

Steve retrieved his shield and Clint's arrow, and they started back to the main compound at a brisk pace. "Has this ever happened before?" he asked.

Clint shook his head. "It's been bad luck after bad luck ever since you got here, Rogers," he said.

***

Tony had just passed through the second security door, Loki sneaking in behind him, when a buzzer went off over their heads. Loki immediately froze, concentrating on his spells to be sure that none of them had at last failed. When Tony glanced his way and didn't react, he relaxed somewhat. But then the guard that had just allowed Tony through opened the glass door and waved for him to come back. "Mr. Stark, I'm sorry but the base is going on lockdown. I can't let you go through."

"What?" Tony frowned irritably. "Doesn't lockdown mean I'm supposed to report to my department head? Which in this case is me?" He gestured to the far end of the hall. "Dr. Foster's waiting."

The guard waved for him again. "Mr. Stark can you please exit the hallway so I can report my end locked in?"

Tony sighed and looked like he was about to comply. Loki looked to the far door, but unlike the one they had entered through it was made of steel instead of glass, and he wasn't sure he had the strength to force it. He turned his eyes on the guard. "Never mind," he said firmly. "You can go ahead."

The guard blinked dizzily. His hand closed on the corner of his desk and he stared straight back at Loki. Just as Loki started to develop a second strategy, he muttered, "Never mind. You can go ahead."

Tony eyed him. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Loki supplied. "Just don't tell anyone, Mr. Stark."

The guard repeated Loki's words, and with a shrug Tony continued toward the lab. Loki sighed. He could feel that the Tesseract was close, but it would do no good if his magic failed before getting him there.

He followed Tony to the far door, through it, and then through another short corridor to yet another door. Again Tony's card allowed them access, and at last they were in the center of the building, in the circular chamber that Loki had previously observed through Tony's eyes.

Only two other people were in the lab: scientists Erik Selvig and Jane Foster. Loki ignored them, drawn instead to the hulking metallic structure at the room's center. The mortals' crude Bifrost device towered nearby, thankfully silent, but Loki could still feel the residual energy running along its coils. It had certainly made contact with Asgard.

Loki gave the device a wide berth and stopped next to the stove-like husk where he knew the Tesseract lay. It pulsed inside like a heartbeat, and when he pressed his hand to the glass viewing window, it speed up as if it knew he had come for it.

"You were too pretty for even Father's treasure room," Loki whispered, already feeling rejuvenated in its presence. "You deserve better than these peasants suckling off you." He fixed his gaze on Tony, who was making his morning greetings. "Tony Stark," he said. "Open the containment unit."

Tony's eyelids fluttered, and he swayed momentarily just like the guard had. But then he shook his head and said, "Now why would I do that?"

Jane frowned at him. "Do what?"

Loki ground his teeth. With Hammer's camera still tucked under his arm, he moved to Tony's side. "Tony Stark," he instructed again. "Open the containment unit."

Tony shuddered, but when Jane put a hand on his shoulder, he fell still, and he blinked around the room with growing clarity. "No," he said to the air, and when he turned, his eyes focused clearly on Loki. "Make me."

***

Steve and Clint reached the south wall of the administration building and fanned out. With the image displayed on Steve's phone as well he was able to roughly estimate the angle, and after some squinting he managed to spot a tiny metallic spec hovering over the corner of the building.

"Barton!" As Clint hurried over, Steve called it in. "I think I've spotted something. I'm going to ask Barton to shoot it down, so if you get a call from administration, tell them they're not under siege, all right?"

"Try to leave it intact if possible," said Coulson.

Clint slung another arrow and took aim. His shot was as accurate as ever, but as soon as the tip came within a foot of its target, something flashed, and the arrow dropped straight to the ground sapped of all momentum.

"What the hell was that?" Clint demanded.

He tried again, to the same results. As he grumbled, Steve hefted his shield and flung it at the hovering craft. As before there was a spark of light, but rather than drop like a stone, the shield and the device went spinning in different directions. Clint started running and managed to get in position just as their tiny intruder dropped into his open palms.

"It's a camera," Clint reported as Steve jogged up with his shield in tow. He flicked the power off and watched the lights fade. "God damn it, someone really is spying on us. And it looks home made."

As Clint inspected the crude casing, Steve lifted his phone to his ear. "We've taken it out, sir," he reported to Coulson. "It's some kind of homemade camera. We'll bring it--"

"Never mind that," Coulson interrupted, which was strange enough without the sudden urgency in his tone. "There's at least two more, and one of them is in the science wing. Get over there _now_."

Clint dropped the camera and turned to go immediately. As Steve followed he realized that the camera's lights were back on, and it was climbing steadily into the air again. He hesitated, but then he realized that lights were blazing inside the administrative building as agents rushed to their tasks. They were under attack. With his shield on his arm he left the device and headed after Clint.

***

For several beats, no one moved. Loki stared at the mortals and all three stared back, blank-faced and silent. All at once his presence registered, and everyone reeled. Loki tossed his camera into the air and heard its motors whirl to life, but it was far from his mind as he punched Tony in the jaw and then whirled back on the containment unit.

The metal was sealed in all places. Loki clawed at the seams, searched for a button or a latch, but nothing gave way or reacted to him. As he circled the device a red light began to flash and warning sirens blared. He ignored them, growling in frustration as the Tesseract sang for him, out of reach.

"Hey!" Erik weaved behind him, Jane at his side, both of them brandishing crude weapons pulled from their own equipment. "Get away from there!" they shouted, but Loki continued to ignore them up until Erik swung at him with a fire extinguisher. The edge caught him in the shoulder and spun him away from his prize.

Loki regained his balance swiftly, but pain hammered down his arm, leaving him momentarily stunned. His body was on the edge of collapse, and his internal organs clenched against the pull of failing magic. "No," he hissed as Tony pulled himself upright and joined his peers. "No, how dare you." If only his magic had not been drawn so thin he could have made quick work of all three in seconds.

Erik came at him again with the fire extinguisher. Loki was prepared, however, remembering the sparring lessons of his youth as he parried it with his open palm and then struck the man hard in his left ear. Tony came next, but he was still wincing from his jaw, and Loki took advantage of his sloppy defense to aim for the arc reactor on his chest. Though Tony wisely retreated, as soon as Loki's attention was diverted Jane attacked him from behind with a metal tray. The impact resounded all through the back of his skull and sent him falling into a nearby table.

As soon as Loki had his footing, he turned on Jane. Her face was hard with defiance, and he hated her for thinking she could stand up to him even when he was at his weakest. "Jane Foster," he growled, and when she attacked again he ripped the tray out of her hands and grabbed her by the throat. "I remember you. I saw you with my brother."

"Thor?" she gasped, but then Loki's fingers clenched in her neck and she couldn't speak.

"Did you think you meant something to him?" Loki said as he backed her into a row of computers, rattling equipment to the floor. "How dare you, you miserable peasant. Did you think you could know Thor better in four days than his own brother of a thousand years?" Anger clouded his sight, and as she pawed at his wrist he lifted his other hand to her face. "I'll have your eyes for your insolence!"

Erik and Tony leapt at him again, trying to draw him back, but it wasn't their strength that halted Loki from his mad revenge. As he struggled Tony off his arm he twisted, and saw a face peering through the glass window in the far door. It was Steve. He was heaving himself against the metal door in an attempt to dislodge it. Loki paled and did not wait for their eyes to meet. He released Jane and threw his attackers off, scrambling again to the containment unit. Still nothing gave way, and in desperation he pulled himself on top of it, where thick tubes and wires had taken root.

The three scientists retreated to the door. "I can't!" Tony shouted at Steve, gesturing. "The whole place is locked down!"

Loki yanked at the tubing. Sweat trickled down his brow and he cursed, until at last he felt something tear beneath his hands. He kicked and pulled and twisted the tube loose. Even a slight crack was enough to let the Tesseract's energy escape, and Loki gasped as he felt its heated rays pour out over his fingers and wrists. The Tesseract was aiding him. Its power expanded, and the containment device creaked at every hinge while Loki tore the metal open with his bare hands.

"Stop it!" Erik shouted from where he and his peers were still crowded at the door. "You don't know what you're doing--you can't touch it with your bare hands!"

Loki laughed. He plunged his arm into the chamber and fearlessly grasped the Tesseract. A jolt like lightning struck through him, up through his skin, into his bones. The might of Odin's treasure soared into and around him in waves, filling him up. Exhilaration so potent it was pleasure flared into every crevice of his physical body. It was so much more than the last time he remembered, as if the Tesseract itself rejoiced at having been rediscovered by him.

"Yes," Loki murmured as he pulled the Tesseract free of its cage. It was gleaming a brilliant blue-white that threatened to blind him, but he refused to look away. "Yes, I hear you." His ears hummed with an otherworldly tone that was almost music. "My poor, lost treasure. Forgive me for having ever forsaken you."

And then he felt it. He lifted his head and felt, tingling at the back of his mind, the eyes of Asgard's gatekeeper upon him. Though his magic was replenishing rapidly he made no attempt to hide himself from Heimdall's seeking gaze. "Do you see me?" he cried. He held the Tesseract up and smiled at the sensation of its warmth showering down on him. "Are you there, Heimdall? I am alive! Do you wish now that you had searched for me? You are too late, and it's mine!"

He laughed with his triumph. He could perfectly imagine Heimdall perched stoically at the edge of his bridge, a single bead of sweat trickling down his brow. He shuddered. "Is Thor there with you? Is Odin?" Loki drew the Tesseract to his chest and glared into the ceiling as he pictured them, too. "Are you surprised, Brother?" he whispered. "Did you mourn me too soon, or not at all? Tell him, Heimdall. Tell him I'm alive."

Loki took in a deep breath. "I'm alive," he repeated, and with the Tesseract clasped against him he felt it had never been truer. Something was different. The Tesseract was hot and almost throbbing in his hands, and he soon became convinced that there was rhythm to the rise and fall of its tumultuous energies. It was communicating something to him. When he closed his eyes it became clearer still, and he felt in the well of his abdomen that spark that had terrified him the night before.

"You can feel it, can't you?" Loki said. He shivered, frightened by the possibility but emboldened by the Tesseract's response to him. "It's true." With so much power at his disposal he was able to recognize the different frequency inside him for what it was: life. Only the barest hint of life, but life nonetheless. He had a seed of life in his belly and the Tesseract, with all its infinite wisdom, celebrated it.

Loki opened his eyes. The mortals were still crowded at the door, staring with wide eyes, but it was Steve's face in the doorway that Loki was most drawn to. There was no fear in Steve's expression, only determination, as if already calculating a plan of attack. He might have even been eager. He had at last found his missing link, the face in his notebook, and Loki would not leave him wanting for answers again.

Loki dropped to the floor. His magic rippled outward, transforming his suit into long-missed Asgardian armor. Green and black and gold weaved over his body and billowed into a long cape, but it was the horned helm crowning him that satisfied Loki most. As he faced down his human audience he cast a quick glance to the upper corner of the room, where Hammer's camera continued to film. He smirked.

"Well," said Tony, " _that's_ a functionality I hadn't thought of."

Loki turned toward him. The room was still flashing red, the alarms sounding, and in the hall past Steve Loki could see more agents gathering. The entire facility would soon be armed and ready. He welcomed it.

"Tony Stark," he said. "You've done well to continue the work of your father." He opened his hand and the Tesseract lifted from it, hovering a few inches over his palm. "But you and your kind will never be able to manipulate this treasure as I do."

Jane tried to step forward, but Erik prevented her. "You're Loki, aren't you?" she shouted over the wailing siren. "What have you done to Thor?"

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Still you pray for a god of thunder?" He stretched his hand toward the wall. "Very well." 

The Tesseract sang, and its energies flowed from its sharp edges into Loki's palm, across his arm span, out through his fingertips in a torrent of white lightning. It sliced through the walls of the lab like the sword Balmung and split them open in a thunderous explosion. Steel, concrete, and glass shredded into smoldering dust, tainted with the stench of singed flesh, and as the debris settled, it revealed a jagged tunnel where the west wall of the science building had been.

The mortals cowered back, covering their heads and faces. "Where is Midgard's defender now?" Loki sneered at them. "Did he not swear himself as your ally? Brother Thor is no better at keeping his word than I am, it seems." He stalked toward them, and laughed when Erik tried to position himself in front of Jane to defend her. "Go on, pray to him," he taunted. "Beg him for his aid. He's watching, you know." He stopped in front of Jane. "What will your last words to him be?"

She stared up at him, fearful, though not as much as she should have been. Her breath was hard and he could see in her eyes that she _was_ praying, with her full faith. She was little more than a worm but still she believed that Thor would come for her--and Loki knew that he would, were he able. It made his insides squirm, and he clenched his teeth, eager to end her fragile life.

Loki reached for her, and Erik and Tony both grasped for weapons, but neither got the chance to use them. Before Loki could capture his prize an arrow stabbed into the hollow of his throat. It ripped through his windpipe and burst out the back of his neck, narrowly missing his spinal column. The tip was so well sharpened that Loki barely felt the impact; it wasn't until the blood poured down his throat that he stumbled back, clutching the metal shaft embedded in him. His gaze whirled on the destroyed wall and the figure of a man readying another arrow.

The Tesseract flared again, ripping through the surrounding equipment and sending the humans ducking for cover. In their distraction Loki took hold of the arrow with both hands. Blood oozed down his chest and he couldn't breathe, but his anger outweighed any anxiety. He tore off the arrow's head and yanked the shaft from his throat, splattering the floor with a red stain. For a few agonizing moments he swayed on his feet, his fingers staunching his wounds, but his magic was swift in repairing him. His flesh knitted seamlessly together and fresh air expelled the blood from his lungs.

Snatching up the Tesseract, Loki propelled himself toward his attacker, but Clint turned and fled. Loki gave chase, Jane Foster and her friends momentarily forgotten in the face of someone bold enough to draw his blood. They raced out of the building and into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s open courtyard. As soon as they were free of the wreckage, Clint dodged to the side, leaving Loki to the circle of agents that awaited him with weapons drawn.

Loki eyed their primitive firearms with amusement. "Mighty S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks it can wield swords as well," he laughed. "We'll see, we'll see."

"Loki!"

Loki turned just enough to see Steve emerge from the wounded building. He was armored only in a T-shirt and sweatpants, his shield on his arm, but he approached Loki as boldly as if he were a god-soldier. "You asked for me," he said. "Here I am."

The agents were tense but did not appear to be about to open fire, so Loki ignored them for the moment, his full attention on Steve. "I did," he agreed. "I have been waiting for this for a long time, and so have you, Captain America."

Steve gulped. His glare was intense but not with the malice he ought to fix on his enemy. "Then I was right. You do know me."

"I know you very well, in fact." Loki moved closer and was pleased when Steve did not back away. "But I'm not surprised that you don't remember me. I never allowed you to see me like this."

Steve braced his weight, his shield poised. "You've been working for HYDRA all this time."

Loki laughed, the remaining blood in his throat speckling his lips. "No, Captain. Back then, _you_ were working for _me_."

The twang of a bowstring alerted Loki to another arrow being fired, but this time the Tesseract reacted on its own, dissolving the projectile before it could reach its target. Loki's spell of retaliation seared the concrete barriers surrounding the courtyard, throwing great hunks into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks and scattering them. Before he could follow with the killing blow, Steve attacked from his side. His shield slammed into Loki's left elbow and shoulder, reawakening the bruises rendered by Erik and his fire extinguisher, and Loki couldn't help but be impressed as he was thrown several steps and almost fell.

Steve pursued. He attacked with his fists, and Loki was careful to dodge and parry while keeping the Tesseract far out of reach; he knew the havoc its power could wreak on an unguarded human body if contact was made. Steve's punch caught him in the chest, and he grinned at the strength of the impact that rippled through him. His Captain's ability had not diminished despite a span of decades.

Steve punched again, and Loki caught it against his palm, letting the sting excite him. "Yes," he said, his muscles straining to keep Steve at bay. Without the Tesseract he might have even been overpowered. "Show me your strength."

Steve's lip curled. "My pleasure."

He swung his free arm, and his shield crashed against the Tesseract still hovering over Loki's palm. The shockwave of the blow echoed outward like a tidal wave and sent both men flying in opposite directions--Steve back into the science building, Loki deeper into the circle of agents. Loki growled as his armor scraped along the pavement. He struggled upright, disoriented and searching for where the Tesseract had landed.

"Open fire!" shouted the agents.

Loki defended on instinct. The moisture in the earth sharpened to ice and shot into the air, impacting each speeding bullet and shattering them. A second wave attacked the agents themselves, shredding through their weapons, stabbing their hands and wrists. It was instantaneous and efficient, more so than Loki had ever been on his own. Within seconds, thousands of points of light had disarmed his enemies. It wasn't until the men and women were falling back, wounded and shouting, that Loki realized the Tesseract had fueled it. A dozen meters away it sat gleaming where it had fallen, feeding its energy to Loki through trails only he could see.

Loki wrapped his hands around the flowing tendrils of magic and heaved, whipping them into the groups of agents, into the surrounding buildings. Steel and stone cracked apart as easily as glass beneath each touch of arctic fury. Agents fired on him but their bullets never reached him. Loki laughed, delighting in their feeble attempts as he cut them down.

A familiar scent reached him through burning ice, and Loki turned just in time to deflect a blast from the Iron Man's arc reactor. The suit was different than the one he had seen before: more silver than gold, with more seams in the metal and lesser defense. Loki grinned as he calmed his assault on the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. to focus on his new adversary.

"You could not best me with your finest, even before I had this," Loki taunted. "You think you can survive me now?"

"You haven't seen all my tricks yet," Tony replied.

A blast from his heels carried him across the distance between them. Loki made no attempt to dodge. The suit's metal fist slammed into the side of his helmet and sent him flying backwards, his boots scraping. The strength of the blow was irrefutable, but Loki's magic prevented him from being felled. He waited until Tony pursued, leaping through the air, to counter with a hammer of solid ice that pounded him and his suit into the ground.

"I've heard much about you, Tony Stark," said Loki as he approached. He glanced up and, noticing one of Hammer's cameras hovering at a safe distance, motioned for it to come closer. "From your allies and enemies."

Tony struggled onto one knee and lifted his right hand. A red light gleamed within his palm and Loki felt immediately that it was more of a threat than Tony had levied on him before. He wasted no time in capturing Tony's hand in his. His fingers clenched through the titanium and shattered the repulsor, stabbing shards of it into Tony's hand. Even through the closed helmet Loki could hear the man's cry of pain.

Loki pulled, stretching Tony's arm out. His other hand snapped to Tony's throat, and he loomed over him as he struggled. "Did you think your arrogance and vanity would come without consequences?" Loki jeered. "Allow me to deliver vengeance in the name of one you thought beneath you."

He let go of Tony's hand to instead sink his fingers beneath the collar of his chest plate. With his weight braced and his grip secure he pulled, ripping the front of the Iron Man suit open with one smooth tear of his arm. Latches snapped and metal sheared with groans and squeals. Wires and pistons gleamed along the edges like bones and blood vessels spilling from an open wound. All around the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gaped, shocked at the sight of the Iron Main laid open before them and completely at their enemy's mercy.

But Loki wasn't finished. He cast the chest plate aside and grabbed for Tony's arc reactor. Tony fought, pulling against his grip and grabbing his wrist, but Loki had already gotten his fingernails beneath the lip of the glowing device. Blood welled along the reactor's edges as Loki pulled, slowly, giving a good show for the camera that remained nearby.

***

"Steve!" Jane was shouting, her hands hot as they pulled bits of debris away from Steve's face and chest. "Are you all right?"

Steve sat up with a groan. The recoil from the Tesseract had been unlike anything he'd felt in a long time. His entire shield arm tingled and his hair stood on end as if prickling with electricity. "I'm fine," he grunted, quickly locating his shield along the destroyed hallway. "Stay here with Dr. Selvig."

"You can't go out there," Jane started to say, but Steve was already on his feet and charging back toward the courtyard. 

The base was in chaos. Coulson was among the agents, trying to rally them, but many were wounded and their weapons useless. They huddled behind great chunks of earth and concrete, watching the battle between Loki and Tony helplessly. Steve seethed as he hefted his shield; all his time on the front HYDRA had never dared to take the fight to him and his unit. Without a thought given to his lack of armor or weapons he stormed onto the battlefield, and as soon as he'd located his target, he flung his shield.

Steve's shield crashed into the side of Loki's helmet. The metal dented beneath it, and Loki reeled, releasing Tony as he was tossed to the ground. Steve raced over the uneven ground and skidded to a halt next to Tony, half-collapsed and grasping at his chest. "Stark!" He touched Tony's shoulder.

Tony's mask clanged open. His eyes bulged and his armor twitched and shuddered around him. "I'm all right," he wheezed. "But I can't move."

There was no time to get him to safety; Loki was already pushing to his feet. "Keep your head down," was the best advice Steve could give, and then he was on the attack again. He barreled down on Loki, a well-placed blow to the jaw sending Loki's helmet flying off.

Loki grinned. It wasn't the arrogance of an enemy knowing he was superior--he was pleased with Steve. As they struck and parried, fist to fist beneath a wide-eyed audience, Steve felt as if he were being tested. The harder he fought the more Loki delighted in it, even when he was forced to retreat a step, and it filled Steve with anxious energy. A hundred questions buzzed in his mind and drove him onward, making him more determined than ever to win.

Steve aimed a punch to Loki's gut that stole his breath. At last something approaching fear showed in Loki's face, and with a strangled groan he snatched Steve by the wrist and spun him about. Steve fought but Loki was faster, and within seconds his arm was twisted behind his back. A moment later Loki had him by the throat, and he yanked them both backwards, up against the mangled science building.

"Stop," Loki hissed against Steve's ear. "Do not struggle. I don't wish to hurt you."

Steve did stop. With his back to Loki's chest and a strong arm around his neck he was at a woeful disadvantage, but more importantly, he believed--against all reason--that Loki was telling the truth. When the agents around looked like they were readying weapons, he motioned for them not to fire.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Steve said. "You protected me when I fell off the van, during your prison break."

They were pressed so tightly together that Steve could feel Loki grin. "Yes."

"Why?" Steve took hold of the arm circling his neck but still did not fight. He could see Clint creeping into position out of the corner of his eye. He needed to be ready the instant Loki offered him an opportunity, but at the same time, he was eager for answers. "What do you want from me?" he asked. "Why protect me then or now?"

"You know why," said Loki. "Because when I fell into this world of strangers, you were waiting for me. You are all that is familiar to me in this crippled realm. And you felt the same about me, when we met."

Steve felt a chill. "I didn't even recognize you when we met," he said, but he couldn't deny that Loki was right. He had scrawled another drawing of Loki in his notebook just that morning, desperate to remember. 

"Yes, you did. You felt it." Loki turned his lips close to Steve's ear. "Because I made you."

Gunfire sounded in the distance. Shouts and screams arose from the other side of the compound, and the agents looked to each other in confusion while some reached for their phones. Steve pulled against Loki's arm, trying to see, but it was coming from the opposite side of the administration building, where he and Clint had first discovered the floating camera.

"That would be Johanna," Loki said. "Raiding your armory and computer systems."

Steve renewed his struggles. When his strength wasn't enough to break free of Loki's arms he tried to tangle their legs and trip him, but Loki would not be moved. Loki even chuckled, his voice turning Steve's stomach. "It's useless to fight me," Loki said. "Your strength _came from_ me. You are as perfect as a mortal can be, but you will never best a god."

"What are you talking about?" Steve demanded warily. 

"Did you think Dr. Erskine developed his formula entirely on his own?" said Loki, and Steve went still. "Years ago I visited him, and gave him a gift." His lips smacked, and Steve could smell the copper coating them. "My blood. Using it, he created his precious serum. Created _you_."

Steve's chest heaved with uneasy breath. "You're lying."

"I watched you grow," Loki continued, each word stinging against Steve's ear. "Watched you knock down the doors of your enemies, defeat them at every turn. I even watched your precious Bucky Barnes fall to his death." Steve jerked but Loki held fast. "You lived up to all my expectations. I was too hasty to think you dead, but even that was fate, because now you're here just when I need you. You are _mine_ , Steve Rogers. Everything you have you owe to me."

Loki relaxed his hold. "I gave you this," he purred, sliding his hand from Steve's wrist to his bicep. "And this." His stroked his way to Steve's shoulders, then down his chest. "And this. All of it. You belong to me and I want you on my side. We could be kings of this realm if only you would join me."

Steve stood frozen as Loki's hands pressed into his chest. His thin T-shirt was no defense, but it wasn't being torn open like Tony that frightened him. It was the _pull_ he felt, resonating from each of Loki's fingertips. Gravity was drawing his swiftly-beating heart up against his ribs with a familiar, mind-erasing pressure. 

"No," he said weakly. Loki's words weighed on his brain and left him dizzy. "No, I don't believe--"

"Can't you feel it? You and I are connected." When Loki leaned into his back, the warmth of their too-close bodies reminded him inexplicably of the morning before, with pleasant weight and teasing kisses on his shoulders. "Come with me, Steven. We won't be alone as long as we have each other."

The words put poison in Steve's stomach. He couldn't believe that he had heard them at all, spoken by Loki's cold tongue. The arms around him were suddenly suffocating, and with a tremor in his hands he cast them off. He leapt clear just as Clint launched an arrow. As before Loki threw his arm out, ready to disintegrate it with magic, but as soon as the projectile was in range it exploded in a ball of fire.

Heat flared against Steve's back, and he rolled, grabbing up his shield on his way to Tony's side. He turned back in time to see Loki dispel the explosion with only a few gestures. A snap of his wrist drew the Tesseract into his hand, and from its polished surface sprang fresh energy, whipping across the courtyard. The already mangled earth burst all around him and chased Clint back into hiding. When Loki expanded his attack to the surrounding agents Steve hunkered down next to Tony, shielding them both as best he could from the waves of icy projectiles.

Loki stopped and surveyed his work with approval, and then turned to grin at Steve. He was all but glowing with the Tesseract's light, powerful and overwhelming, and as he approached Steve felt the first prickling of real desperation. As much as he didn't want to believe Loki's claims, the truth burned hard in the pit of his stomach: Loki was part of him. His body tingled with recognition and blurred his memories. He couldn't remember suddenly if it had been Lori's words in Loki's voice or only Loki's all along. Even considering it made him ill with doubt. As Loki towered over him, as much a god as he claimed, Steve's mind went white. He clutched his shield and prayed his instincts would provide him the means to defend against whatever attack--magic or otherwise--Loki levied on them next.

But Loki didn't attack. He stared down at Steve with what might have been fondness, confusing Steve even further. "These mortals you choose to defend are weak," he said. "They are strangers who care nothing for you, except for what good you can do them. You belong with _me._ " He smiled. "But I can be patient." He took a step back, his hand flittering over his stomach in a way that seemed significant, though Steve could make no sense of it. "I will be back for you, when you're ready."

The Tesseract flared, and Steve winced back and covered his eyes. By the time he was able to blink the stars away Loki was in the air, his cape billowing as he rose higher and higher above the crippled S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. With a flash he streaked across the sky and disappeared over the bay. Steve watched, his breath held, until not even a shimmer remained, and even then it took Tony's groan of pain to draw him to life.

"Mr. Stark?" Steve dropped his shield and turned to Tony, trying to take stock of his injuries. The Iron Man suit had been ripped viciously apart, and Tony's chest heaved in the opening, blood on his undershirt. "What can I do?"

"Get this off me," Tony croaked. He pawed at an opening at his hip.

Steve reached inside and found a latch. When he pulled, the entire armor shuddered and then went slack, popping open in sections. More agents came forward, and together they were able to work Tony out of the armor. 

Coulson jogged over as they were finishing. There was blood on his face and he was cradling his left arm against his chest. "Mr. Stark," he said with weary concern. "Are you all right?"

Tony was stretched out on his back, one hand pressed to his chest, the other still clad in armor and held carefully in Steve's grip. "Never better," he sighed, eyes closed.

"I'm afraid if I take it off, it's going to take his fingers with it," Steve said around a grimace. "And he's bleeding from his chest. He needs a surgeon."

"He's priority." Coulson pulled out his phone and, realizing it was broken, waved to a nearby agent for theirs. "Once we're sure the helicopter hasn't been damaged we can get him into the city."

Jane and Erik joined them, along with Clint, who also had blood dripping from his nose and down his arm. Almost everyone limping toward them was injured in some way, either cradling bloodied arms or holding sleeves to shallow head wounds. As Steve relinquished Tony to the care of more experienced agents he realized that he was bleeding, too, from a gash by his temple he didn't remember suffering. Ignoring Jane's offers to help, he stood, turning to survey the damage. The courtyard looked like a battlefield. More than one agent lay dead, and he could smell smoke in the distance. He turned to Coulson. "What about HYDRA? Was Schmidt here?"

"They're withdrawing." Coulson cycled through his phone. "Director Fury is there, but I don't know if we have the manpower to pursue." He paused. "Are _you_ all right, Captain?"

"No," said Steve. He turned back to stare in the direction Loki had disappeared and realized that it was north. "He's heading for the city."

***

Hammer's palms were sweating as he raced around the hotel room, packing his equipment. His pulse fluttered and his head spun, and he muttered to himself as he shoved everything into pillowcases. He couldn't believe what he had seen. Only two of the cameras had survived the entire encounter, but their images were remarkable--impossible. He was tempted to play them all over again just to be sure his eyes hadn't been playing tricks on him. In his mind's eye he could still see Tony Stark, cowering beneath the majesty of a god, broken and bleeding. It put his stomach in his throat and he wasn't sure why.

Light blazed through the curtains. Hammer shielded his eyes and stumbled back as thunder rippled across the front of the hotel and shattered the windows. Wood and drywall stripped away and rained down on the busy streets below. The roar of the city poured through the ragged opening, and Hammer held his breath, gaping at the rush of sun where a wall had once been. When the light faded he was finally able to make out Loki, floating effortlessly several stories above the ground, the Tesseract in hand.

Loki grinned. "I promised I would not leave you behind," he said.


	9. Chapter 9

Steve straightened up when he heard the helicopter take off. He watched it clear the helipad and turn north, flying out over the bay. "You're sure it's safe for them to fly?" he asked.

Agent Coulson was seated on a rocky outcropping next to him, having finally stopped moving long enough for a medic to put his arm in a sling. "Loki's energy signature was last detected heading west out of the city," he said. "It's a risk, but we couldn't leave Stark unattended any longer."

Steve's hands flexed and clenched. "I should have gone with them."

"I'm afraid there's not much even you could do to protect a helicopter that's in the air," said Coulson. "We do have a gunship en route to offer support, if needed. You're doing plenty of good being here, Captain."

Steve lowered his eyes. "That's not quite true, sir," he said quietly. "He wouldn't attack that helicopter if he knew I was on it."

Coulson frowned up at him. "Excuse me?"

"I'll explain later." Steve pushed to his feet. "I'm going to head over to the administration building, see if I can help Director Fury."

"All right."

Steve moved away. The sidewalks that normally led out of the courtyard had been ravaged, and he had to mind his footing to keep from twisting or spraining something. When he found one of the concrete barriers in tact he hopped up on it, and took a moment to survey the entire, surreal landscape.

Hunks of earth and concrete littered the grounds. Entire trees had been shredded by Loki's hailstorm, leaving them as drooping skeletons. The science building had taken an even worse beating, with its gaping tunnel where the west wall had been; Steve could see straight through it to where Erik was trying to make sense of the tattered lab. All the windows in the surrounding buildings had been blown out. Steve could hear the glass snapping underfoot as agents moved about, tending the wounded and zipping bodies into bags.

Steve had seen battlefields, but it was very different staring down at the carnage wreaked on his own home base. He had never been on the losing side, assessing casualties while his enemy ran free. It was maddening, but even more so was the memory of Loki's voice, ringing in his ears. He didn't want to believe everything he had been told, but when he pressed his hand to his chest he felt the imprints of Loki's fingertips burrowing into him.

"It can't be," he murmured, willing himself to believe it. His gaze flickered toward the shore where he had rejected Tony's warnings barely twelve hours ago. "It can't..."

He spotted something just off the path: a hint of fabric half hidden under a bush. He hurried toward it, and was still several yards away when he recognized the stiff, white accessory. His pulse rushed into his ears and his hands went numb as he crouched down and wrestled Lori's purse free.

"It can't be," he said again, yanking it open. The purse was empty but he turned it over several times before he was satisfied. There was no mark on it to indicate an owner, and Steve continued to tell himself it was a mistake or coincidence, without believing it.

"Agent Coulson!" Steve shouted over his shoulder. He saw Coulson get up but couldn't wait for him. Sitting back on his heels in the dirt, he jerked his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Lori's number.

Coulson accepted the purse when Steve handed it to him. He immediately understood. "Captain...."

Steve listened to the phone ring on until finally going to a generic answering machine. "Damn it." He hung up and pushed to his feet. "Damn it!"

Coulson watched him. "Talk to me," he said calmly.

"He said..." Steve felt raw panic claw up the back of his throat. It was so unlike anything he'd felt, and it pounded into him memories of every moment he had spent with Lori. Or with whom he'd thought was Lori. Two voices overlapped in his mind, two sets of long fingers stroked his arms and chest. Two pairs of lips played at his ears and sent his heart racing. He could feel a warm body settling over his hips, and pressing into his back, and shoving him to a mattress, and dragging him into a wall--

Coulson was still watching him, and his serious, patient eyes snapped Steve back to reality. "He said 'I'm not alone if I have you,'" he was able to continue. "The same thing Lori said to me the other night. He couldn't have known to say that, unless..."

His phone rang. Steve looked to the name on the display and gulped. His thumb moved to accept the call, but Coulson beat him to it, putting it on speaker. "Lori?" Steve answered hesitantly.

"Steven! Did you just call me? I've been trying to reach you."

She sounded perfectly normal, her sweet voice shattering any overlap from his otherworldly enemy. Steve almost relaxed, but was reined in again by Coulson's grim expression. "I did," he said. "Are you all right? Where are you?"

"I'm in Jersey, thank god." Lori chuckled. "So I suppose I can say I'm fine, relatively speaking. What about you? I'm so relieved to hear from you. I feared the worst."

Steve frowned and took a moment to ask his questions carefully. "Why would you?"

"I saw what happened," said Lori, and immediately Coulson started tapping on his borrowed phone. "You've made Youtube again--it's all over the internet."

Coulson's phone rang, and he wasn't quick enough to cover the speaker. As he turned away to answer, Lori said, "Is someone with you?"

Steve turned the speaker off and put the phone to his ear. "I need to see you," he said. "Can I come pick you up?"

"Why? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Steve worked his jaw. "I just need to see you. I need to know you're...all right."

Lori was quiet for several beats and then said, "Call back once you're alone." She hung up.

Steve listened to the phone droning until Coulson turned back to him. "Captain," he said. "That was the Director. He needs to see us."

Steve grimaced as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Anger and confusion swirled behind his closed eyelids, but when he took in a deep breath he was able to sweep it away. "Let's go."

***

Hammer watched the footage for the eleventh time. He had edited it beautifully, if he said so himself. Even with only rough sound the images were striking, awe-inspiring, terrifying. He held his breath through every playing, marveling at the ease with which Loki decimated S.H.I.E.L.D.'s defenses. A few strategic cuts had removed Loki's fleeting moments of vulnerability and made the scene even more impressive.

Hammer uploaded the video for the thirty-eighth time, and then four times more, each to a different site. As the progress bars crawled across the screen he clicked through the blogs he had submitted to earlier, various Facebook pages, and finally large scale news sites. Everyone was talking about the leaked footage and the unknown man that starred in it. Nearly all of Hammer's previous uploads had been removed by government agencies, he assumed, but it hadn't stopped the spread of the still images and animated gifs that were spanning the globe. Millions of people, from terrorists to internet nerds, aided the infection of his prized media. The United States' government wouldn't be able to go much longer without making a statement. Pepper Potts had already promised to appear at a press conference in a few hours to detail the Iron Man's involvement, and his current health.

"Is this even real?"

Hammer glanced up from his laptop. Three young women were seated in the booth across from him, leaning over an iPad. "It can't be, right?" one of them said as they sipped their lattés. "What is that freak even wearing?"

"It's like some kind of bad cosplay. But at least the effects are pretty decent."

Hammer smirked to himself as he clicked through another news site. One of the uploads finished, so he closed the window and checked the time. He wouldn't have much longer before the feds noticed another upload and tried to track him down.

"If it is real, good," said the third girl. "It's about time someone took Iron Man down a peg. Who the hell does he think he is anyway?"

The other uploads finished. Hammer did his best not to laugh aloud as he shut down the laptop and hurried out of the coffee shop.

The van was waiting for him. As soon as the door was closed behind him they started off again, and Hammer at last allowed himself a satisfied laugh. "Launched another wave," he reported gleefully as he tucked his laptop under the seat. "It's spreading like the clap. Have you seen what people are saying?" He checked the Iron Man Twitter tag on his phone and all but giggled. "'So much for America's deterrent,'" he read. "'I can't believe this is happening!' 'Serves him right.' 'There goes the 1%.' Ah, here--here. This one's my favorite." He cleared his throat. "'I refuse to believe it's real. Iron Man doesn't lose!'"

Loki smiled from the next seat over. He was reclining peacefully, his armor replaced with soft robes of green and gold, his eyes closed. The Tesseract sat nestled between him and the armrest, safely contained in a metal wastebasket Loki had crushed shut with his bare hands. Its light still gleamed through the cracks and made the interior of the van warm and somehow calming, as if the cube itself radiated satisfaction and Loki was basking in it.

"It's a shame the government keeps trying to take it down," Hammer continued. "I can't get an idea of how many hits it's gotten this way. But you already have a Facebook with thirteen hundred friends." He laughed again. "I'm not sure how many of them you could consider devoted converts, but it's a start." He scrolled through the wall posts and grinned. "'Nice work on Iron Man, buddy.' It's about time these people came out of the woodwork--I was starting to think I was the only one."

"Are you disappointed that I didn't kill him for you?" Loki asked.

Hammer's humor faltered. He had watched the footage so many times he had no trouble recalling the image of Tony Stark kneeling at the mercy of a god, but as with the first time he had witnessed it, remembering it then made his stomach clench with an indescribable emotion. He shook his head. "Naw. This is so much better, anyway." He went back to scrolling through the Facebook comments. "If you killed him it would only make him more popular. It'll be so much better when he has to face the press and tell them he lost. Iron Man _lost._ " He smacked his lips, tasting victory already. "Not so invincible after all."

He glanced over. Loki was still smiling peacefully, and when Hammer lowered his gaze, he noticed the subtle movement of Loki's fingers over his abdomen. "Um, what about you?" he asked carefully. "You didn't get..." He frowned, mindful of the HYDRA soldiers in front of and behind them. "...everything you were after."

"It's all right," said Loki. "There is still time."

Hammer looked again to Loki's stomach. There was nothing to see, but he could sense the change in the god-being seated so casually next to him. Loki was quiet, for once. He was perfectly settled and still. Hammer licked his lips. After seeing Loki in action anyone would have rethought their strategy in dealing with him, but for Hammer it wasn't Loki's wrath and destruction that inspired his change of perspective. It was seeing Loki as he was then, composed and silent, his hand gentle but possessive against his belly.

"So." Hammer leaned closer. "Did you...figure it out? That _thing_ you weren't sure of?"

"Yes," said Loki.

"And...?"

"Yes," Loki said again. He glanced at Hammer out of the corner of his eye. "The answer to your question is yes."

Hammer let out a quiet whistle. "Wow. That's...that's great. Good for you." He thought he should have felt shock or revulsion, but instead he found it aweing. Loki had accomplished something impossible, and as of yet only Hammer was aware it was even happening. It was a strange secret to keep but it made him special. A god had claimed his first foothold on earth and it was Hammer he confided in. It was in Hammer's name that he had wrested control from the most well-known hero in the world.

"Thank you," Hammer said before knowing the words were even on his tongue. "I mean, I know what you did back there wasn't for me, but..."

Loki closed his eyes again and grinned. "You are welcome," he said. 

Hammer smiled to himself and relaxed next to Loki for the long drive.

***

Fury gathered Coulson, Steve, Clint, Erik, and Jane in the conference room. Though Steve had heard that Fury suffered some manner of knee injury during the attack, he did not show it. He stood at the head of their small assembly stone-faced and unflinching as he debriefed them on the attack and listed damages and casualties. Six people had been killed, twenty-three injured, and two that had been in the science building at the time of Loki's lightning display were missing, presumed dead as well. 

"He just appeared out of nowhere," Erik said when prompted to explain how it had started. "One minute Mr. Stark walked in, the next Loki was right next to him. None of us saw anything."

"The security footage confirms," said Coulson. "The building's metal detectors and heat sensors didn't pick him up, either. We don't have any means of detecting him."

Jane fidgeted in her chair. "But Mr. Stark was acting strangely, just before it happened. There was a moment the other day, too, when he seemed less than clear. He might know more than we do."

"He's still in surgery, last I heard. We'll have to wait." Fury rubbed his eye patch in irritation. "They were able to get a blood sample from the lab. The science lab might be able to use it to develop something we can use. Detect him using his energy signature or DNA or some such." He straightened. "In the meantime, we are on high alert at all times. Loki and HYDRA seem to have moved on, but there's no telling where they'll strike next, or when. I've recalled Agent Romanoff. Barton, I want the two of you to use whatever means you can think of to track these assholes."

"What about the men Agent Romanoff was already tracking?" asked Steve.

"They gave her the slip."

Clint scoffed, but Fury's expression was grim, and it sobered him. "Yes, sir," he said. "If the tech lab can IP trace where they've been posting their home videos from, we'll find them."

Fury dismissed them, but Steve didn't leave with the others. He and Coulson approached Fury together. "Sir," said Steve. "There's something you should know."

Fury called an image up on the conference room's screen; it was a downtown hotel with smoke billowing from its front. "Is this the hotel your 'friend' was staying at?" he asked Steve.

Steve swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Loki tore one of the rooms up as soon as he left here. It was the only thing in the city he touched." Fury crossed his arms. "And he made off with whoever was inside. No one managed to identify who it was, male or female, but there wasn't a struggle."

"If it was her, I doubt she's a hostage."

Fury regarded him stoically. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing," Steve said immediately. "Not where this base is, how it operates, what we have here--nothing." His fists tightened. "And I think you know that."

Fury's eyebrows perked. "Stark told you about the bug, huh."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, sir," said Steve. Fury made a face at the presumption, but he continued. "It's pretty clear now that it was necessary."

"Then the only question left is, when I find the proof that this woman of yours really is a spy, are you going to be able to do what's necessary?"

"Yes," said Steve, again without pause. "Absolutely."

***

It was just after seven in the evening when the call came in that Tony was awake and ready for visitors. Because Steve and Jane were together eating dinner at the time, they were able to track down Coulson on his way out and beg their way into joining him. Coulson hesitated at first, citing Fury's insistence that Steve especially remain on the base, but finally relented. The three of them piled into Coulson's Sedan and took the tunnel into Manhattan.

"You should have listened to me in the first place," Tony said as soon as he saw Coulson. "Didn't I ask permission to bring my rig down to headquarters? I knew the portable version wouldn't be enough."

Coulson's smile was mostly a wince. "You know we can't authorize something like that for a civilian," he said. He nodded a greeting to Pepper and Happy who were already crowded around Tony's bedside. "Glad to see you're doing well, Mr. Stark."

Tony's private room on the top floor of the south pavilion was more like a hotel suite. Everything was immaculate and tasteful, and the windows sported a glittering view of the East Hudson and Roosevelt Island beyond. Tony himself was propped up in bed, dressed in a spotted hospital gown, the half-eaten remains of a handsome dinner before him. His arc reactor gleaming through the cotton garment was oddly reassuring.

"Relatively speaking." Tony held up his right hand and the impressive cast that covered his hand and ran down his elbow. "Sure, they saved all my fingers, but I'm not going to get any use out of them for a while. Pepper is devastated."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Six weeks," she said. "But other than that, the doctor said he should be able to go home by the end of the week."

Steve eyed Tony's chest with concern. "So there wasn't any damage to your...?"

Tony passed his good hand over the spot self-consciously. "He loosened me up a little, that's for sure," he said, far more casually than Steve thought he ought to. "But it's not like they can take this out, so the best they could do was slap some bandages on and hope I heal up on my own."

"And he will," added Happy. "Toughest sonuvabitch I know."

His enthusiasm earned him a fistbump, but Steve wasn't convinced. He could see the tension in the way Tony held his injured hand, in the way his eyes slid toward the window. 

"Can you tell us what you know about what happened?" Coulson asked. "Especially how you came to the base?"

"You were acting strangely," added Jane. "Like the other day, after our first test."

"Yeah. Honestly?" Tony rubbed his eyes. "I don't know. That part is just...kind of fuzzy. I remember Loki talking to me, and I answered...but it was like an out-of-body experience, you know? Like I knew he was right next to me, but it didn't register until..." He shrugged helplessly. "Did anyone at least see where the bastard went?"

"From what we can tell, they're heading west," said Coulson. "We're thinking either he or part of HYDRA has been uploading the video from the incident every hour since it happened, wherever there's free Wi-Fi. But now there are so many people saving and uploading the same file over and over, we lost track of them pretty quickly."

Pepper clenched her hands around the cell-phone in her lap. "But he's not coming back, right? He was trying to kill Tony. What if he decides he wants to--"

"We don't think he has anything to worry about at the moment," Coulson assured her. "No offense to you, Mr. Stark, but if he had wanted to kill you, he probably could have."

"Would have," Tony corrected. He looked to Steve. "If not for you."

Steve shifted on his feet. He had something he wanted to say, and he could tell that so did Tony, but he was hesitant to do so in front of so many people. Tony seemed to catch on, as he cast a meaningful glance in Pepper's direction that she had no trouble interpreting.

"I think I need a break from this," she declared, not very subtle but effective. She stood from her chair. "Happy, let's find some coffee."

"Oh, sure." 

"Would you mind joining us, Agent Coulson?" Pepper said on her way to the door. "I have some important questions about how S.H.I.E.L.D. intends to keep Mr. Stark safe from now on, if he's going to continue on as your consultant."

Coulson pursed his lips but relented. "We'll be right back," he told Steve with a hidden _Stay put_. As he left with Pepper, Jane also voiced her desire for coffee and slipped out.

"Thanks," said Tony once they were alone. "For saving my ass."

"We're even." Steve took a seat in the chair Pepper had previously occupied. "Are you really all right? Ms. Potts isn't here to hear it."

Tony smirked dryly. "Yeah, I'm all right." He fingered the round seam of the reactor. "It's just not every day someone almost pulls your heart out of your chest." Seeing Steve's expression, he frowned. "Or is it?"

Steve leaned forward on his elbows. He wasn't sure why he was compelled to tell Tony anything, but the truth was burning holes in his tongue and part of him felt he owed it. "You were right," he blurted out before he could change his mind. "About Lori. I found her purse at the base."

Tony's brow furrowed as he tried to work out the most appropriate reaction. "That's a tough break."

"I don't know what to think," he went on. "I never told her anything about the base--she never asked. She didn't ask about you or S.H.I.E.L.D. or anything. There wasn't anything in my phone or at my apartment she could have accessed..."

  
"If you're asking me to let you off the hook by taking the heat for the intrusion, you don't have to," said Tony. "I'm sure Fury will blame it on me, anyway." He rubbed his knuckle into his temple. "And I'm half positive some kind of mind control was involved."

He was joking, but it caught Steve off guard. The possibility of mind control or any kind of deceptive magic hadn't occurred to him, and it refreshed and strengthened every doubt that had plagued him since Coulson first suggested betrayal. Nausea and anger warred in his stomach, and he pressed his hand to his mouth, waiting for it to numb like everything else in his maddening day.

"Rogers?" Tony prompted.

Steve passed his fingers back through his hair. "If Loki is capable of that, what if he's capable of anything?" he said. "What if it was a spell the entire time?"

Tony took in a slow breath, but whatever he'd been planning to say didn't make it out. He grimaced with awkward sympathy, but as they stared at each other, Steve saw him come to the same impossible conclusion.

"Tell me I'm crazy," said Steve.

Tony tried to but wasn't able to say that, either. "It's...only one letter off," he replied.

Steve pushed to his feet. He knew the windows wouldn't open but he moved to them anyway, wishing his hands against the glass could give him fresh air. The chill to his clammy palms helped. As he stared out over the darkening water he forced himself to consider what his gut was already telling him was true. 

It had only been a week since he met Lori at Unlimited. They had spent only three nights and one morning together. It should have been too short a time for him to develop an attachment, let alone one as strong as the bonds clenching around his ribs. He should have never been as desperate and naïve as to welcome a stranger of such short acquaintance into his bed. Loneliness was too pathetic an excuse, but sorcery he could forgive himself for.

"What if everything was a lie?" Steve said, turning back toward Tony. "Everything she said, everything I..." He clenched his jaw. The memory of waking up to a woman in his arms for the first time was already growing dim and ugly.

"I hate to say it," said Tony, "but at this point, I don't think it matters, Rogers." He sank deeper into the pillows at his back. "I don't know about you, but what we fought today was stronger than anything I've been up against. We're in deep. Even if we weren't talking about your girlfriend being..." He tried out a few phrases before picking one. "...on the wrong team, I'd be telling you to cut her loose. We have a job to do. Think you'll be able to do it?"

Steve frowned, and a strange calm came over him. "If a job needs doing," he murmured, "you can bet a Rogers will do it."

"Come again?"

"Something my mom used to say." Steve pulled his phone out of his back pocket and headed for the door. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Rogers?" Tony tried to sit up, waving after him. "Wait--where are you going?"

Steve ducked into the hallway, already dialing Lori's number. It picked up on the second ring.

"Are you alone?" she asked.

"Yes." Steve glanced left and right to be sure that Coulson or Jane weren't on their way back. "I need to talk to you."

"Then let's do so in person."

Despite Steve's determination, his heart still skipped. "Now?"

"Of course." He could nearly hear her smile. "I'm right outside."

"How?" Steve headed for the elevator. It was foolish--he knew how. He knew everything, he was just wasn't willing to admit it yet. 

"Come outside," Lori said. "I'll tell you everything." And she hung up.

Steve skipped the elevator and took the stairs, three at a time, all the way to the ground floor. By the time he was at the exit he had steeled himself. Whatever Lori said, whoever--or whatever--she turned out to be, he would be ready. He would never be vulnerable again.

His preparation nearly shattered when he saw her. He burst out of the front entrance and there she was, seated on a bench just beyond the circle drive. She was dressed in the same pristine white dress as when they had first met, her hair delicately curled at the tips, a necklace of gold around her throat. She looked up and smiled, mysterious and captivating. Steve told himself not to be fooled, but that didn't stop the anxious curl in his stomach. It was only two nights past that he had hovered over her in the dark, and his body remembered better than his mind how perfect it had been.

Steve took in a deep breath and crossed the hospital's drop off zone. Lori rose to meet him. He had no idea what he was about to do or say, but as soon he set foot on the sidewalk it didn't matter. She immediately took his face in both hands and stood up on her toes for a kiss.

Her lips were as warm and sweet as ever. Her body swayed into his, soft and curving, feminine in every way. Her breasts pressed up against him and instinctually his hands went to her back, pulling her in. She smelled like Lori--she tasted like Lori. She was every inch the woman he had made love to in the quiet morning hours, and he ached, begging her through his kiss to be real. Pleading with her not to take the fleeting happiness the future had granted him.

The streetlight above them went out. Every light went out, plunging them into brief but total darkness. Steve tried to lean back, but Lori held him still. She rose even higher on her toes, higher than could have possibly been comfortable. The hands holding Steve's face grew fierce, the plush breasts flattened into a strong chest, the curves stretched into muscle. By the time Steve comprehended what was happening, Lori was taller than him, forcing his chin back to continue their sealed kiss. She was gone. As the lights flickered to life up and down the entryway there was only Loki, looming over Steve, grinning against his mouth.

Steve lurched back, and when his heel slipped off the curb Loki grabbed him by the front of his shirt to keep him from tumbling into the street. As soon as Steve was stable again he cast the hand off. "You," he growled, clenching his fists to try and hide that they were shaking. "What did you--" Loki's smirk drilled the truth into him at last, and he cut himself off with gulp. "There is no Lori," he said. "Is there."

"No," said Loki, straightening his suit lapel.

"It was you all along."

"Yes, it was." Loki turned slightly. "Walk with me, Steven. We have much to talk about."

He started down the sidewalk, away from the bustle of the medical center's entrance. Steve had no choice but to follow.

***

Jane was on her way back from the bathroom when she spotted Tony breaking out of his room. He had struggled into Happy's jacket, and it hung with a bulging right sleeve over his spotted cotton hospital gown. He had his phone to his ear as he headed swiftly for the stairwell.

"Mr. Stark?" Jane hurried after him and caught up at the stairwell door. "What in the world are you doing?"

Tony jerked back and, seeing who was following him, waved for her to follow. "It's Rogers," he said as he rushed down the stairs. "He's getting into trouble."

Jane glanced back down the hall, searching for a sign of Pepper or Coulson, but no one was near. She pulled a face and followed Tony down the stairs. "Then we should tell Agent Coulson. He's just over--"

"No, no, no." Tony tried to steady himself against the wall, but didn't have an easy time of it with his cast. "He'll follow procedure and call for backup."

"Isn't that what you're _supposed_ to do?"

Tony abruptly stopped on the landing, and Jane had to grab for the rail to keep from ramming into him. "Listen," he said, clicking the phone to speaker.

 _"_ It was you all along _,"_ Steve was saying, his voice oddly muffled.

 _"_ Yes, it was _."_

Jane glanced between the phone and Tony's grim expression. "Is he talking to you?" she whispered.

"Rogers' phone is bugged," Tony explained as he continued down the stairs at a faster pace. "He can't hear us. I've cut it off from Fury so it's just you and me, Foster. We've got to keep an eye on him."

He stumbled, and Jane rushed forward to support him before he could fall down nine flights of stairs. "Mr. Stark, you can't be out of bed," she scolded. "You just got out of surgery. I'm going to find Agent Coulson and--"

Tony pushed the phone into her hand so he could concentrate on righting himself. "He's talking to Lori," he said. "I mean Loki--that _thing_ that almost killed us today. You want the men in black down here, starting a firefight in the middle of half a dozen hospital buildings?" He drew himself up and had an easier time maneuvering the stairwell with his good hand. "Just come on. I'm not going to let him get himself killed."

Jane stared down at the phone in her hands, and with a shudder she followed Tony to the ground floor.

***

Steve watched Loki closely as they made their way down the sidewalk. It was the first time he had been able to do so without the rush of battle blurring everything together, or the grainy black and white of a security camera between them. Loki was tall and narrow, all hard edges and flashing emerald. He carried himself with a thousand years' worth of poise. Ever since their confrontation on the van Steve had longed for the moment when he would be face to face with the ghost who represented so much to him. He had been right: Loki knew him. He was not the only one who had been cast through time into a bizarre and unwelcoming future.

Steve took little satisfaction in being vindicated. Loki's revelation had struck to the core of him, changing everything he knew about his origins, his accomplishments, and most disturbingly, the brief but powerful relationship he had shared with a stranger. He stared at Loki's long arms and sleek physique, ill with the knowledge that _this_ is what had shared his bed. If he dwelled on it too long he was sure he would be sick.

"Don't bother calling for your friends," said Loki. "It won't do you any good. I am only a projection." He held out his hand, and his fingers briefly vanished. 

"Is it true, what you said about Dr. Erskine?" Steve asked. The answer would change his life but it was still an easier question than the rest swirling his brain. "The serum..."

"Yes," said Loki, looking and sounding pleased with himself. "Dr. Erskine used a sample of my blood to create his formula. I dare to imagine there were a few drops of my blood itself in the mix. You see, Steven, all magic--all life--has a frequency. You and I are vibrating with the same rhythm. I know you can feel it."

His fingers skated along the back of Steve's palm, sending goose bumps up his arm. Steve jerked his hand back. "Don't touch me."

Loki chuckled. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?"

"It doesn't matter where the serum came from," Steve said firmly. "It was Dr. Erskine who made it--he chose me. I don't owe you for that." He glared at Loki. "And even if I did, I wouldn't join you. You've been using me all along."

"If it puts your mind at ease," Loki said, "it was nothing you said or did that allowed me into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base this morning. I used Tony Stark for that. I have never used you."

Steve flushed with anger. "You lied to me," he snapped. "You disguised yourself, you..." His stomach lurched. "...seduced me. So no, it doesn't 'put my mind at ease.'"

"It wasn't my intention to seduce you," said Loki with a coy smile. 

Steve rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "They why? If you didn't need me to get to the cube, _why_?" His heart was beginning to pound. He tried to breathe deeply, to keep his emotions at bay, but every careless upturn of Loki's lips fought to unravel him. "Tell me the truth."

"The truth is, I disguised myself that night hoping to get close to Tony Stark," Loki obliged. "I assumed he was my surest method of obtaining the Tesseract, and he did not disappoint. But when I saw you, I couldn't help myself."

Loki touched the small of his back. Steve flinched, tried to draw away, but Loki leaned into him. "I'd been searching for you, too," he said close to Steve's ear. "As desperately as you sought me. You were lost in this world and so was I. And then there you were, alive." His hand slid up Steve's spine to rest possessively against the back of his neck. "My lovely creation, blessed by fate. I couldn't stay away from you."

Steve gulped. Loki's palm was heavy, and as much as he wanted to break away, he felt compelled not to. Loki was right about him, and he burned with shame. He had been lonely enough to wish for an enemy and it had come true. "You cast a spell on me," he accused. "To make me--"

"Never," Loki interrupted gently. "I've never used my magic against you." His voice lowered to a whisper, his lips brushing Steve's earlobe. "Whatever you feel for me is entirely your own doing."

Steve squeezed his eyes briefly shut, but then forced them open, forced himself not to dwell on Loki's tricks. He couldn't risk contemplating his feelings with Loki so close, so lethal. "Then...then why are you working for HYDRA?" he asked, clawing after his focus. He had a job to do. "If you were on our side during the war, why work for Schmidt now?"

"Priorities change." Loki refused to let Steve go as they continued toward the end of the lane. "In order to accomplish my new mission, I need the Tesseract. And HYDRA is so much easier to manipulate than S.H.I.E.L.D. Make no mistake--I am not working _for_ Johanna Schmidt and her ilk. They are my willing servants. They will assist me for as long as they are useful and able."

"What mission?" Steve asked warily.

Loki squeezed the back of Steve's neck. "To be a god."

Steve stopped walking. The conflict raging beneath his surface went suddenly calm, replaced with anger and, deeper than that, disappointment. He was oddly grateful that with one sentence Loki had freed him from his greatest doubts. "I thought you were already a god," he said carefully.

Loki chuckled as if savoring a private secret. "All Asgardians fancy themselves gods. It's an ugly title for those that inspire no worship. But I will improve upon them." He let his hand fall from Steve's neck as he circled in front of him. "The Tesseract's might is absolute. With it, I am the most powerful being in Midgard, and I will rule as a king. It is an inevitable fate that humankind will kneel before me. It's just as you said, Steven. This world needs one that can unite its people, yet all they understand is force. They will find plenty in me."

Loki lifted his hand to Steve's face, delicately tracing the line of his jaw. "And you will be at my side. My demi-god, my captain. Together, we will create a glorious future for this realm."

Steve glared back at him, unmoved and hard. "No," he said sternly. "I won't."

"What reason do you have to refuse?" Loki persisted. "Everything you have, you owe to me. Your strength. Your very life." His eyes thinned playfully as his fingers slithered to Steve's chest. "Your manhood."

Steve's face went red, and his innards twisted, but he refused to give Loki the satisfaction of any greater reaction. "If you thought you could get me on your side by sleeping with me, you were wrong. You may call yourselves gods where you're from, but to me you're just a bully." He drew himself up. "And I don't like bullies."

"You doubt my power?" said Loki, his fingernails catching in Steve's T-shirt.

"No. I've seen it." Steve took Loki's wrist and pulled the hand off of him. "It just doesn't matter. No matter how strong you are, or how strong you think you are, I'm not going to stand back and watch a madman destroy the things I care about."

At last Loki's humor faded. "A madman," he repeated.

"Yes." Steve let him go, and though he was tempted to place even more distance between them by stepping back, he remained still. "You're no different than Johann Schmidt."

They stared at each other for nearly a minute, unmoving and silent. The air drew tight and almost painful between them. Steve remained resolute but his chest ached as he watched Loki gradually absorb the accusation. Irritation and what might have been uncertainty flashed in his shining, emerald eyes. He hesitated, as Lori had hesitated when weaving tales about her estranged brother, reminding Steve all over again of the "woman" who had been taken from him. He reeled internally as he remembered each exchange and wondered, with distant dread, just how much of Lori had been lies.

Loki abruptly smiled again. "If you were not so loyal, I would not be so eager to have you," he said. "But I can be patient. Stay as you are, Steven." He turned the corner and started to walk again. "Once S.H.I.E.L.D. has surrendered to me, you can join me without committing betrayal."

Steve clenched his jaw as he fell into step next to Loki again. "S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't surrender."

"Then it will be destroyed down to the last man: you. Either way, you will be mine eventually." Before Steve could say otherwise, Loki continued. "In the meantime, I have one other offer to make to you which I'm certain you'll find more palatable."

Steve wiped his sweaty palms discreetly against the insides of his pants pockets. "What is it?"

"A truce." Loki tilted his chin up. "For one full Earth year, neither I nor my followers will attack a human city or challenge its military. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be safe from us, as will your friends."

"In exchange for what?"

"Privacy. HYDRA and I will disappear so long as you make no effort to find us."

Steve shook his head. "You want us to just forget what you've done, so you can build your army in secret? I know what you're up to. HYDRA's numbers are small, but they'll grow now that the world has seen what you're capable of. That's why you wanted it on video, isn't it?" When the smile flickering across Loki's lips confirmed it, Steve went on. "You didn't just want to teach S.H.I.E.L.D. a lesson, you were recruiting. You targeted Mr. Stark specifically so that the world would think we have nothing that can fight back."

"Which is the truth," Loki replied. "Nothing in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s arsenal can defeat me, especially now that I have the Tesseract. Like I said: I am the most powerful being in Midgard."

"Then why not take over the world now, if that's what you're after?" Steve glanced furtively up and down the streets, noting the cars and pedestrians nearby. There were none nearby to have overheard any part of the conversation, but Steve worried for them should Loki's temper escalate, or should he decide to make a demonstration of them. Steve licked his lips. "If you're so powerful, it doesn't do S.H.I.E.L.D. any good to sit back and let you become even more so. I can't accept a truce on those terms."

"You don't have a choice," said Loki. "If you and your friends rise against me now, you will fail. How can you refuse the chance I'm giving you?" His tone grew abruptly colder. "I would have thought you'd welcome this opportunity to seek the aid of my brother. Only he has any chance of besting me now."

Steve wasn't sure what to make of Loki's sudden bitterness, let alone the words spoken through it. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded. "There's some other reason why you don't want us coming after you now, isn't there?"

Loki again fell quiet, but there was no interpreting his faraway expression that time. After some contemplation, he stopped walking again and admitted, "I am offering this truce for your sake as much as mine. Because I know it would distress you if anything were to happen to the child."

Steve stared at him blankly. "What child?"

"My child."

Loki took Steve's hand and pressed it, palm flat, against his abdomen. His skin was cool but his eyes intense, and Steve frowned, confused and uncomfortable. As he looked from Loki's stoic face to his own hand the words finally coalesced inside him. Even then he was slow to comprehend. "Your child," he said dumbly.

Loki covered Steve's hand with both of his. "And yours."

A tremor rippled through him. Steve continued to stare and felt his edges crinkling with heat, shriveling like burning paper. The sounds of the city blurred into an unintelligible groan around him. "I don't understand," he said.

"Yes you do." Loki stepped closer, and the unnaturally low temperature of his body made Steve clammy all over. Loki wet his lips and murmured against Steve's temple, "I am with child. _Your_ child."

"That's..." Steve tried to take in a full breath and couldn't. His sight was gradually going white with disbelief. "But you're... no. No, you're a--"

"A man?" Loki tsked. "Technically not, at the moment. Not since before that night, when you took me to your bed." He ghosted a kiss to Steve's forehead. "Over, and over. If I didn't know better, I would think you were being intentionally thorough."

"No," Steve said again, his breath wheezing. His body was rigid and screaming through his skin. "No, you're--you're lying. Why would you make up--"

"I didn't think it possible, either." Loki let go of Steve's hand and draped his forearms over his shoulders. His long fingers played fondly at the small hairs on the back of Steve's neck. "When I was a young lad bedding chamber maids, Father was very stern with me about taking precautions." He grumbled quietly. "Now I understand why he was more wary of me than of Thor. But I took his advice seriously. Of course, I never dreamed that in becoming a woman I had made it possible for me to carry a child myself. If not for the Tesseract's song I would not believe it even now. How fortunate," he teased, "that you were not more cautious than I."

Steve tried to push Loki off. He tried to shout and accuse, but no part of him would obey. He could only stand still, trapped in Loki's casual embrace, one hand still pressed to Loki's flat belly while the other trembled at his side. "It's impossible," he stuttered.

"It ought to have been," Loki agreed. "In fact, I'm certain it could have only been you. My blood in your body is what made us compatible. Your seed, so swift in taking root." He chuckled. "Could that have been part of Dr. Erskine's design? How wise of him, to make you so virile. So _potent_."

"Get off of me," Steve gasped. He pushed at Loki's stomach and chest but his strength was miniscule, his hands weak. He was smothered and drowning. "Don't touch me!"

"I know it's as much a shock to you as it was me." Just when Steve thought he would lose his composure entirely, Loki pulled back. "But you'll see, in time." He took Steve's hand and pulled, leading him down the sidewalk once more. "Do you understand now why I ask for a truce? Even if you and your friends manage to find some impossible weapon, you will not dare use it on me while your child rests in my belly."

Steve stumbled, but the movement of his blood through his limbs loosened his shocked and frozen muscles. No longer locked in place, his clarity struggled to return as well. "I don't believe you," he said. "You've lied about everything else."

"Not as much as you think," said Loki. "I told you the truth about my family, my circumstances." He sighed quietly through his nose. "I cannot go home any more than you can, which is why I've resolved to make myself at home, here. With you, with this child...I might even have family again."

Steve pressed his free hand to his mouth. His stomach was roiling, ready vomit at any moment. "No," was all he could say. "No."

"I've been thinking often of Frigga," Loki continued as if oblivious to Steve, even as he clutched his hand. "She was a kind enough mother. I wonder what she would think, if she could see me." He touched his abdomen. "I feel as though I understand her better than ever before. To feel life spark inside you. How hard it must have been for her, to carry and birth a child as mighty as Thor, to feel so much love and connection to a man of her own making." His voice lowered. "And then to be handed a bastard and asked to love it just as much. Oh, how she must have hated Odin to suggest it was even possible. But she tried." Loki smiled ruefully and shook his head. "I know she tried. But Odin was a fool if he thought she could ever love me as much as a babe of her own womb."

Steve shivered. Loki's voice was perfectly calm, making his confessions all the more eerie. "What are you talking about?" Steve asked weakly.

"I can feel it so clearly, now. It all makes sense. I was only ever their tool, you see." Loki's hand seized around Steve's until it hurt. "I was currency Odin could eventually bring to the bartering table against Laufey, nothing more. How could they love something so wretched, when they already had a son so fine?" He took in a deep breath. "I forgive them," he said, even though he shuddered around the words. "Not for their deception, but for loving me less. Because now I know what it's like to have a real child, and how much everything else pales in comparison."

"No--wait." Steve's brow furrowed. He was still half faint with shock but he couldn't be silent in the face of Loki's lies. "You're wrong. That's not how--"

"I wonder, too, about my true mother, whoever she was. Laufey must have put her to some horrible death. Nothing less would have allowed her to abandon me, weakling or not. Not if she ever felt for me one fraction of what I feel for this child in me."

"Stop!" Steve yanked Loki to a halt and grabbed the front of his suit. "Stop, stop talking," he said, shaking his head fiercely. "You're wrong. About them, about me..."

He trailed off, and when Loki drew him close again, he was too battered to resist. "Shh," Loki soothed, wrapping him up in his long arms. "I know. It's too much, isn't it? I know how it feels." He kissed Steve's temple and held him close. "The truth is cruel. It almost broke me, once. But you will be stronger because of it." His voice tilted coldly. "As I am."

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to break away, but every shallow breath he took in filled him with the smell of Loki's skin. It was bizarre and haunting to have Lori's shadow enveloping him, both familiar and alien. Lori hadn't simply been a mask worn by a clever liar; she was still alive, still beside him, sharing insecurities and loneliness. Steve could have hated an actor for casting off his role, but he could still feel vestiges of the teasing, vulnerable, selfishly-insistent woman humming through Loki's embrace. It had been Loki all along, and it was unbearable.

"You will understand soon enough," Loki continued to murmur, his hand moving in a slow, comforting caress to the back of Steve's neck. "How much you need me. This is our fate, Steven. Years ago, when I helped create you, I felt for the first time that I had earned my title of 'god.' That is what a god is meant for, no? Creation." He kissed Steve's cheek. "And now, we've accomplished something far greater. A life that could spring from no other coupling." Kissed the corner of his mouth. "A child that I could not come to bear without you, without the rejuvenating power of the Tesseract itself."

He tilted Steve's chin back and kissed him full on the lips. Steve jerked against him and tried to pull away, but Loki was still wrapped around him, and there was nowhere to go. He still tasted like Lori. Steve wavered dizzily, for the first time since his transformation helpless beneath someone taller and stronger than him. It was as if he had been stripped of his serum and then some.

"You've made me a god twice over," Loki whispered against his mouth. "And our child will be even more so. He will rule on high as Emperor. Someday, even Asgard will tremble before the strength of our line. That future can be ours, if only you would pledge your loyalty to me. Say it, Steven." He kissed Steve again, with greater fervor. "Say you'll be mine and you can have the world of peace you deserve."

Steve groaned in protest, but it wasn't until Loki pressed into his hips that he found his full strength again. With a growl he got his arms between them and at last managed to throw Loki off. Panting and wobbling, he tried to scrape Loki's taste out of his mouth. "You're crazy," he gasped. "You're crazy, and I'll never surrender to you." When Loki straightened, Steve retreated several steps. He wasn't sure he would be able to fight Loki off a second time.

Loki wiped his thumb across his bottom lip. "You only say that now because you haven't witnessed even a fraction of what I'm capable of," he said.

Loki raised his hand toward the opposite side of the street. A man and a woman stood in the entrance to another building; they had stopped to stare, and continued to do so even as Loki targeted them with his open palm. His fingertips turned icy blue, and on instinct Steve threw himself forward and snatched the hand in both of his. Cold burned his palms, but he drew Loki away from the bystanders until his back was to them.

"Don't," he said. "Hurting innocent people isn't going to change my mind."

"Then agree to my truce," Loki retorted. "One year of no aggression on either side, or I will return with the Tesseract to finish what I started with S.H.I.E.L.D." His eyes blazed. "To protect this child I will be as a beast, and unless you can promise me a truce, I will destroy anything that crosses my path. Promise me."

Steve grimaced, so Loki yanked him closer, looming over him. "Swear to me," Loki demanded. "Promise you won't search for me, or I will begin here and not stop until the city you were born in burns to the ground."

"All right!" Steve seethed with frustration as he held Loki's gaze. "All right. A truce, for as long as you can keep your word."

Loki remained still for a long moment, judging Steve's sincerity, before he relaxed into ease. "Good," he said. He kissed Steve's forehead and pried their freezing hands apart. "Then this is where I leave you." He stepped back. "But I won't be far. In fact, I'll likely call on you often." He smiled. "To keep you informed on how our child is faring."

Steve cradled his hand against his chest. "Loki--"

"Good night, Steven." Loki stepped backwards into the street, but his figure was already becoming indistinct, like a shadow fading into light. "I'll be back for you." A grin danced across his lips and he vanished.

Steve stared blearily into the empty space Loki had just occupied. He felt numb. It wasn't until he thumped down on the curb that he realized his knees had given out, and he sat there, his breath heaving, as the roar of cars and faraway planes droned on around him. He had no idea what to do.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony and Jane gaped at each other.

"You heard all that, didn't you?" Tony asked, the first words either of them had spoken since leaving the hospital together. "Tell me I didn't hallucinate that."

Jane's hands trembled around the phone. Some parts of the conversation had been easier to make out than others, but there was no mistaking Loki's impossible declaration. She licked her dry lips. "What do we do?"

"Jesus." Tony shifted uncomfortably and finally took the phone from her. "Go find him," he said. "I'll get us a ride the hell out of here."

Jane didn't argue. She left Tony by the street light they had chosen to huddle around and rushed down the sidewalk. It was the only logical direction the two could have gone, and she raced to the intersection. A quick scan left and right gave her Steve, hunched on the curb a dozen meters away. With a grimace she hurried over and knelt down next to him. "Steve?"

Steve had his eyes closed and his hand clamped over his mouth. When Jane touched his shoulder his entire body jerked, gagging, and she quickly withdrew. "Steve?" she asked again gently. It was the worst thing she could have asked, but she found herself doing it anyway. "Are you all right?"

Steve shook his head the little he could without taking his hand off his mouth. He didn't flinch away again when she touched him, but he was cold with sweat and his brow was tightly furrowed with strain. It drew Jane's attention to his right hand curled against his chest. "Are you hurt?" She drew it toward her, and Steve allowed it. His fingers were ice cold.

"Steve..." Jane groped after something to say and found nothing. At a loss, she rubbed Steve's hand between hers to get some warmth back into it, until a hospital taxi stopped next to them and Tony hopped out.

Jane glared at him. "I thought you were calling Agent Coulson."

"He doesn't want to talk to Agent Coulson," said Tony. He hooked one hand under Steve's arm and tugged, though he knew better than to exert any actual effort. "Come on, Rogers. Let's get out of here."

Steve cringed away from them at first, but when Jane gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, he relented. With a ragged gasp he pulled himself to his feet and allowed them to usher him into the back of the cab.

"What about Ms. Potts?" asked Jane. "They must have noticed by now that you're gone--they've got to be having kittens up there."

Tony's phone rang, and Jane sent him a sharp look, but he only waved for her to get into the car. "Trust me," he said, climbing into the front seat.

Jane slid in and pulled the door shut behind her. As Tony instructed the driver to take them to Stark Tower she turned her attention back on Steve, taking his hand. "Steve, are you hurt?" she asked again. "Please, you have to tell me if--"

"I'm all right," Steve croaked. He rubbed his face and leaned over his knees. "I'm...not injured." Jane didn't press him after that.

"Yeah, well, I discharged myself," Tony was saying into his phone. "I've got everything I need at the penthouse. You heard the doctor--there's nothing they can do about me anyway." He rubbed his chest as he absorbed some manner of verbal abuse from Pepper. "Yeah, he's here. He and Foster are coming with me. No, that's not--oh, hello there. Yes, we're fine." He glanced over his shoulder and winced. "Actually, Rogers is kind of in a bad way at the moment. He had a bit of a lover's tiff, so I'm taking him home to cool off. No, no, that's not necessary."

"Mr. Stark," said Jane.

"Really," Tony continued, "I don't think that's a good...all right, fine. We'll see you there." He hung up. "Sorry, Rogers, but Coulson's a tough bugger to scare off."

"You heard, didn't you?" Steve muttered. He had his head in his hands, looking very much like he was trying not to be sick. "All of it?"

Tony and Jane exchanged wary looks. "It's going to be all right, Steve," Jane said. "We'll talk it out. We're here for you."

Steve shook his head and didn't speak another word the whole way to Stark Tower.

As soon as they arrived, Tony led the way to his private elevator and hurried them up to his penthouse on the top floor. In better circumstances Jane would have marveled at the expansive rooms and sunset view, but her attention was solely on Steve, and she kept hold of his hand all the way to the sofa. Though he didn't look about to vomit anymore, he was still pale, and she rubbed his palm encouragingly while Tony poured them all a drink.

"Mr. Stark, you just got out of surgery," Jane reminded him. "You can't have any alcohol."

"If there was ever a time for drinking, it's now," said Tony, and he tossed back a shot of bourbon. "Come on, Rogers, you too."

Steve glared at the alcohol in front of him, and looked about to refuse, but then all at once he snatched it up. He gulped it down and surrendered a tiny gasp at the burn. 

"Good man," said Tony. He pressed a panel on the wall. "JARVIS, please restrict all access to the penthouse until I say so. That includes Ms. Potts."

"Understood, sir. Though might I recommend--"

"Please don't," Tony interrupted. "Thank you, JARVIS." He dropped into a chair opposite Steve and Jane. "Okay, Rogers." He paused awkwardly. "I guess you should know that Foster and I heard that whole conversation."

Steve shook his head wearily. "It's not possible," he muttered, leaning over his knees. "I don't believe him. It's some kind of trick..." He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth again and looked away.

Jane worked her jaw. "Steve," she said gently. "Did you really not use any...?"

He winced, and after much fidgeting confessed, "No. We didn't."

"Seriously, Rogers," admonished Tony.

"It happened so fast," said Steve defensively. "She... _she_ was so insistent, I barely had time to think, and I..." His hand, still clasped between Jane's, went clammy all over again. "I was afraid of disappointing her. It never even crossed my mind."

Tony rolled his eyes and looked about to continue, but Jane warded him off with a shake of her head. "I know it's crazy, but we don't know anything about these Asgardians," she said. "Which means we have to accept that it's possible, right? Everything he said?"

"It's hard to imagine that someone would _make up_ a lie that unbelievable," agreed Tony.

"God." Steve rubbed his eyes. "How the hell am I going to tell Director Fury?"

"You're not," Tony said quickly.

Steve and Jane looked at him. "You're not," he repeated. "Tell Fury about Lori, sure. But the rest? Don't even go there, Rogers."

"He's the director," said Steve. "I'm not going to lie to him."

Tony's lip twitched. "You won't have to. He's not going to ask if you've impregnated any alien lady-men lately, I promise."

"Stark," Jane said sharply.

"Sorry. But look." Tony rocked to the edge of his chair. "If Fury finds out that the god-thing that tried to wipe us out is carrying your love baby, he's going to take you off duty. You can kiss the Avengers Initiative goodbye. And where does that leave us?"

"Sir," said JARVIS, "Ms. Potts, Mr. Hogan, and S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Coulson are requesting access to the penthouse."

"Denied," snapped Tony. He turned his phone off and turned back to Steve. "I saw you go toe to toe with that asshole today. You're the only one he won't try to slaughter if we go up against him again. We're going to need you to have any chance of taking him and HYDRA out, but if Fury has his way you won't get within ten miles of any fight from now on."

Steve swallowed. "I wasn't strong enough."

"But if he's without the Tesseract, you could be," Tony insisted. "We all saw him before he got his hands on it. Right, Foster?"

Jane rubbed unconsciously at her neck. "Yeah. He's not nearly so powerful without it. But still too much for a normal person."

"Don't tell Fury," Tony said firmly. "It'll just make a mess of everything, and it won't change what we have to do."

Steve struggled, running his hand through his hair, licking his lips. "But what _do_ I do? You heard him. He'll never let us close enough to get the Tesseract away from him, and if he thinks we're even trying he'll destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. and anything else in his way."

"Sir," JARVIS interrupted again. "Ms. Potts is attempting to contact you via the intercom."

"JARVIS, what did daddy say?"

Jane straightened up. "Thor," she said urgently. "Loki said it himself--we need Thor. The bridging device was shorted out during the attack, but not damaged. If we can reach Asgard, Thor and his friends will be able to help us."

"I didn't think you could do that without the cube," said Steve.

Tony hummed. "It'll be a lot harder, but we can still do it. With enough vibranium and a larger reactor, it just might work." He made a face. "The hard part will be keeping it a secret from HYDRA."

"But it _can_ work," Jane insisted. "And even if we can't get Thor here, if we can at least make contact we might get some information out of him. Like how to beat Loki." She winced. "Gently."

Steve rubbed his face again. He looked absolutely haggard but he managed to rally himself well enough. "I'll tell Director Fury about Lori," he agreed quietly. "And the truce. If you really think you can call in reinforcements..." He sighed. "The rest..."

"The rest can wait until we know for sure that it's true," said Jane. 

"Then we're agreed." Tony poured Steve one last shot of bourbon. "Captain America Jr. doesn't leave this room. That goes for you, too, JARVIS."

"Sir, I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about."

"Good." He waved for Steve to Jane to drink up, and they did so with twin grimaces. With surprising dexterity for having only one working hand, Tony gathered up the bottle and glasses to be hidden away. "Okay, JARVIS, you can let our guests in now."

Jane glanced anxiously to the door; she wasn't looking forward to Coulson's exasperated and disappointed look. "Mr. Stark and I will back you up, Steve," she assured him. "Whatever you need from us, all right?" 

Steve continued to stare at the coffee table, and the ring of moisture left by the glasses on its polished surface. "It's only been a week," he mumbled. "I barely knew her."

Jane's shoulders sagged. "But...?"

"But I really thought I was starting to care about her. She was the one thing I had that was...mine. Normal." He closed his eyes. "I feel like he killed her right in front of me."

Jane winced but had no idea what to say, so she just held Steve's hand until the rest of the group arrived. Coulson was predictably irritated, but concern got the better of him when he saw the state Steve was in. Tony pulled him aside and explained the circumstances just as the three of them had agreed while Pepper bit back her complaints. Happy got his coat back and was let off for the rest of the evening. Jane only half-listened to the conversations going on, but caught when Tony suggested that Steve spend the night in the tower instead of returning to headquarters. Coulson reluctantly agreed it would be safer for everyone.

At last Coulson came to speak to Steve himself, and Jane gave up her seat. She joined Tony and Pepper in the kitchen but tried to keep an eye on the pair. Steve seemed to be calming down, or at least was able to answer Coulson's questions without looking queasy, but she still felt awful herself.

"Mr. Stark, I'd like to stay, too, if that's all right," she said. "To help keep an eye on him."

"Fine with me," replied Tony. "There're enough guest rooms."

Jane glanced to Steve and back. "Do you happen to have something we could give him?" she asked quietly. "To help him sleep, maybe? I think he could really use it."

"Some hot tea?" Pepper suggested.

"I was thinking more like Valium...?"

"Oh." She exchanged a look with Tony and chuckled sheepishly. "Oh yes, that, we do have. I'll be right back."

Tony smirked as she slipped off. "That's why _you're_ the rocket scientist," he said.

"Astrophysicist," Jane corrected bemusedly. "But really, Mr. Stark, do you think this is the best way to handle this? Not telling Agent Coulson about...you know."

"If it's true, everyone will find out eventually," said Tony. "In the meantime, they're better off not knowing." His expression was grim. "We need him."

"I think I'll be staying over, too," said Coulson once he and Steve were finished. "Director Fury will have my head if I let Captain Rogers out of my sight again. He might already, in fact."

"I'm sorry," said Steve.

Coulson sighed. "Not much to be done about it now." 

He helped Steve to his feet, and Jane hurried to his other side. He seemed grateful for her hand in his as they moved to Tony's guest room. Once he was safe inside Coulson left, but Jane paused, watching Steve kick out of his shoes and collapse onto the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" she offered. 

"No." Steve rolled onto his stomach. "Thanks, but I'd like to be alone."

"Okay." Still Jane hesitated, a stone in her gut, wishing there was something she could do or say. When nothing came to her she settled for leaving the Valium and a glass of water on the bedside table. "Let me know if you need anything," she said and then showed herself out.

***

Loki's eyes fluttered open when the vehicle began to slow. He assumed at first that it was another of Hammer's pit stops, for refreshment and a chance to upload another round of vicious propaganda, but then he heard everyone disembarking. There were no sounds of the city, no streaming lights. Everything was dark, and when Loki glanced to the van's clock, it blinked 4:48 a.m. back at him.

Hammer stumbled out of the van's side door and staunched a yawn against his sleeve. "We're here."

Loki grabbed up the Tesseract's crude carrier and followed. The cool, fresh air hitting his face was a relief, and he breathed it in. All around tall pines swayed in the breeze, the rustling of their needles blending in with the distant lap of lake waves. When he lifted his head a canopy of stars glimmered down on him with a billion points of light, so much denser than the pale view visible from the city. It was both exhilarating and frightening, and he found he couldn't stare up at them for long without dread seeping into his gut.

Hammer's facility squatted within a small clearing of trees. It was circular, with lines of narrow windows indicating the four stories. Soft yellow light gleamed from only a few. There were many places for trucks and other vehicles to unload their supplies, but the building itself was not nearly as large as Loki had anticipated.

"It's not much to look at from the outside," said Hammer, as if having immediately interpreted Loki's expression. "But the majority of it is underground. Come on--you'll see."

Johanna led the way inside, and they were met almost immediately by one of her soldiers. "We've been using generators to keep the upper labs working," he reported as they made their way past lines of reception offices and worker lounges. "The elevators to the lower levels aren't working, but we did find the main stairwell. It's completely dark down there, though. Our generators just aren't enough to supply everything down there, and Mr. Hammer warned us not to use any external power."

They reached the stairwell door. As Johanna peered into the dark, Loki peeled open the top of his waste-can cage. The Tesseract's light spilled out as if it were gasping for air. Using it as a beacon, Loki took the lead down the stairs and into the heart of the facility.

"There are six levels underground," Hammer explained as they went. "The reactor is at the very bottom. It never did work that well, God bless it." He wagged his finger. "The one thing we learned early on is that when this arc energy stuff decides it's had enough, it wants to go _up_. Up and out, as they say. So there's a tunnel that runs down the center of the facility, with only a retractable skylight up top. You know, in case of 'mishaps.'"

"That doesn't sound very secure," said Johanna.

"It's not." Hammer shrugged. "We built this place to make energy--it's not a fortress. It's going to need a lot of work if you're really planning on making it HYDRA's new base of operations."

They let out on basement one, down a hallway with doors lining either side. "Chem labs," Hammer continued. "Since we had this place out in the boonies, we figured why not use it for all our less fashionable research?" He stopped to peek through one of the doors. "Nothing _too_ terrible, of course. This ain't Hollywood." He chuckled to himself and moved on. "We cleaned it out before we left so there's not much, but I'm sure Dr. Yeon will like it better than the crap that's in the upper levels."

Once he had moved on, Loki paused to look into the room as well. There were sinks, broad countertops full of glass instruments, computer screens. "Has there been any progress by Dr. Yeon's team?" he asked.

"Not yet, Lord Loki," the soldier replied. "I think they were eager for a fresh sample."

Loki frowned. "We'll see."

The deepest floor of the facility looked no different than the others, except for the great steel door at the end of the corridor. Without power the door's security refused to function, but then Loki laid his hand on it. Light flowed from the Tesseract, through his body, into the mechanism. With a series of flashes and clicks the door groaned open, and the small procession entered into the central chamber.

The arc reactor sat at the center, positioned beneath the exhaust port just as Hammer had said. Lit only by the Tesseract's light it looked like a hulking corpse, silent and cobwebbed, joined by a lattice of cables to the computers and hubs all around the chamber. Loki strode closer and pressed his hand to the circle of thick glass. It left a print in the dust.

"Biggest waste of money in Hammer Industries' history," said Hammer glumly. "Sure was a beauty, though, the few times we got it running. Shame." He sighed, as if paying respects to a former era, and then continued on animatedly. "It's hooked into the entire rest of the facility. If you can find a way to modify it to channel the Tesseract's energy, it'll be able to power everything here. Of course the software is a few years old, now. Some of it will have to be rewritten. And we'll have to cut the hardline to Hammer's mainframe, or else the feds will be onto us right away. Security will also need a significant upgrade. We don't have the manpower to staff this beast." 

He nodded to himself. "But it's not a bad start, is it?" He flashed Johanna a grin. "Better than where you were, right?"

Johanna glared at him. "Yes," she said coldly. "It's quite an improvement. And my weapons?"

"Oh, they're all around. Mostly in sub-basement two. We managed to finagle a few ourselves, but I'm sure your scientists will have more luck than we did.

"I'm sure," she grunted. "Is that all you had to show us?"

Hammer stood a little straighter as Loki returned to his side. "Well, yeah. I guess so. Unless you want to see my suite. I had a nice little apartment made up for me down here."

"That won't be necessary." Johanna pulled the handgun out of her belt. Without word or warning she leveled it at Hammer and pulled the trigger.

Loki shot his hand out. The bullet struck his palm but only had the chance to bury scant millimeters before it shattered in a cloud of ice dust. As Hammer stood in wide-eyed shock, Loki retaliated, the flat of his palm leaving a smudge of blood on Johanna's shirtfront as he sent her tumbling a dozen meters away.

"I told you," said Loki, flexing his fingers to make the wound disappear. " _I_ will decide Hammer's use to us."

Johanna landed on her stomach, cringing and gasping for breath. It took her a full minute before she was able to sit up on her knees. "We have the base," she wheezed. "He's just a liability now."

Loki's eyes narrowed. He was tempted to kill her, but a glance to the group of soldiers that accompanied them changed his mind. There was still too much to do for him to want to finish it himself. "Hammer belongs to me," he declared. "And anyone who harms him will be put to immediate death. Do you understand?"

Johanna stood, and with a quiet gasp Hammer ducked behind Loki. She glared at them, still defiant but not foolish enough to question him outright. "Please help me understand why he's that important," she said.

"Because..." Loki smiled. "He's going to be the father of my child."

Johanna and her men stared, uncomprehending. "What?"

"Why do you think I asked for Synthia to leave us alone in the city?" Loki said smugly. "Now, do you understand? Swear to me that no harm will come to him, by you or any of yours."

"I swear," Johanna replied in helpless confusion.

"Good." Loki turned to Hammer, who was pale-faced and wavering on his feet. "Are you all right, Justin Hammer?"

Hammer gulped. "I think I pissed myself a little," he admitted.

He snorted but was amused. "Then you had best calm yourself for what I'm about to do," he said.

Loki moved back to the reactor. Rather than reach for the glass he clasped one of the thick tubs that flowed out of the dormant device. He closed his eyes. The Tesseract hummed in his possession, and he needed only call upon the barest traces of its energy for his magic to flare outward. Brilliant light poured into the tube, illuminating the chamber as it passed from one channel to the next, into the walls, into the ceiling. Above them, the room's skylight groaned and began to shudder. With a squeal of metal it twisted and split open, and all but Loki cringed back as dust and cobwebs showered down on them in sheets. Loki paid it no mind, focusing entirely on driving the opening wider. His magic surged through the facility in waves, bringing it to life, and soon every division running up the long exhaust port retracted with scraping cries. 

Starlight gleamed down on them. Loki lifted his head and again felt a chill, spotlighted so well even deep below the earth. He felt as if the tunnel were a focusing glass aimed directly at him. He took in a slow breath.

"I can make it so the Tesseract will interact with your science," he said. "And with its power, we can manipulate this structure into everything we need it to be. You will have your fortress, Johanna." He faced them. "But for now, it has been a long journey. You require rest."

Johanna stared up the skylight with awe. "Yes, Lord Loki."

They turned to leave, but paused when they realized that Loki was not joining them. "Are you staying down here?" asked Hammer.

"I want to begin right away," said Loki. He touched the reactor's feeding tubes again. "Go on--I will light your path."

The lights decorating the hall flared to life, and one or two burst from the surge, but it was plenty for Johanna and her party to make their way by. Hammer lingered longer than the others, and shared with Loki a secretive grin before finally following them out. Loki closed his eyes and with his magic was able to trace their progress to the upper level. Once they were within the reach of the generators he let the lights dim once more.

Loki sank into one of the desk chairs strewn about the chamber. Its rusty wheels squealed beneath him, and he drifted a few feet from the reactor, giving him a less obstructed view of the stars. He watched them twinkle in the black, his legs stretched out before him, his body limp. It was impossible to be tired with the Tesseract singing at his feet, but part of him felt weary nonetheless. He tingled. The Tesseract's constant song, the memory of Steve shivering in his arms, and now the seeking gaze of Gatekeeper Heimdall rippled over him, overlapping and undulating.

"You are too late," Loki whispered, exerting almost no effort at all to keep himself hidden from Heimdall's prying eyes. "You had your time to search for me. You will never see me again." He glared into the heavens with defiance. "Not until I bring the Ragnarok to your door, like in the human fairy tales we once mocked." He pressed his hand to his abdomen. "Along with the death of Odin."

The stars glistened back, unrelentingly silent. Loki expected no less but he hated them anyway. He pried open the waste can and freed the Tesseract from it, cradling it in both hands. When he let it rest against his body, it grew warmer than ever, and he sighed, letting its otherworldly heat ease all through him. His fingertips twirled at its corners and he imagined that it purred beneath his worship.

"I hear you," he murmured, closing his eyes again. Lightning flashed across the black. "You crave this child, don't you? You, who have existed for a thousand lifetimes, have never known true godhood, either. Not the kind that comes from creating life."

The Tesseract throbbed in his hands. It was eager and willing, and Loki clutched it to his chest, grateful to the point of emotion for its unwavering support. "Help me," he whispered. "I could have been a king twice over--make my child a god. When it is strong enough..." He swallowed. "...If it is strong enough, not even Steven will be able to cast it out. Then he'll see. I know he will."

Loki took in a deep breath. He was tempted to stretch his magic again, float across the space between him and Steve and try again. There was more he had to say. He wanted to tell Steve everything, to make him understand how things had come to this point, how important the Tesseract was, how glorious their future could be if only they stood together. If only he said the right thing, the right way, he could win Steve to his side. 

But then he remembered the anger and disgust with which Steve had regarded him, and doubted. Uncertainty burned in his throat. He came close to reaching for Steve again, but when he held the Tesseract more tightly, its warmth spilling into him washed away that desire. There was no going back. There was no point in regret or nostalgia. There was only infinity at his fingertips, waiting to be tapped and eager to adore him. With enough power he could make everything his, even Steve.

Loki pushed to his feet. He carried the Tesseract to the reactor and pressed it against the glass. The Tesseract melted easily through it, and a simple spell closed the opening behind it. "Sing," said Loki, watching his jewel float to the center. "Show these fool mortals what you're capable of."

Light blazed within the reactor. It flowed out through the tubes, bringing to life every display and monitor in the broad chamber. Red and green blinked along the different machines, and all around a deep, mechanical hum announced a thousand devices lurching with reanimation. When Loki pressed his forehead to the glass he could feel the structure stretching out around him. It quivered beneath his fingertips, waiting to be molded. With a deep breath, he went to work.

***

Steve was ultimately thankful for the Valium. It took more than the average dose, but he was able to get a few hours' sleep free of dreams. He woke with the first hints of sunrise through the shades. As he stretched out on his back in the luxurious, king sized bed, all the events of the day before drifted back to him in a parade of sharp images and prickling sensations.

He had never fought an enemy like Loki. He longed for days on the front lines, shooting into faceless uniforms. He knew how to disable an enemy tank or sneak past a line of trenches to catch his foes unaware. Magic was something else entirely. He had no idea how he could fight something that was already beneath his skin. As much as he tried to tell himself that Loki was no better than the Red Skull, a mad dictator deserving of nothing but contempt, when he watched soft morning light flicker across the bed sheets his resolve wavered.

Steve still remembered waking up to a woman in his arms. He watched the light dance, and in it could easily recall Lori's--Loki's--face turned toward him, full of mournful ghosts. He remembered how she had shivered through their first embrace, eager to give and receive the empathy they alone shared--a shiver that was in Loki's arms the night before. Loki's declarations might have been mad but they were honest; Steve didn't want to believe so, but some part of him insisted upon it. Loki's fleeting touches, his silence when Steve accused him of madness, and the thin, almost manic serenity with which he spoke of his faraway family impressed on Steve every memory of the woman he had been before.

They were one in the same. Loki was still that sensual, lost soul that had accepted and excited Steve so quickly and so well. When Steve shifted on the mattress, the quiet hiss of the sheets brought him back to the morning that they'd passed with such bliss. Not even a master sorcerer could fake the chemistry that had heated them through hours of passion, he was certain of it.

Then he remembered the possibility of a child, and his mind went blank again.

Steve pulled himself out of bed. After a visit to the bathroom he wandered through the penthouse, only vaguely remembering its layout. The sound of Pepper's laughter led him to the kitchen, where she and Tony were sipping coffee around the table. They stopped their conversation to stare as Steve approached.

"Morning, bright-eyes," Tony greeted. He gestured to an open seat. "Join us?"

Steve sank into it, and thanked Pepper when she poured him some coffee. It helped banish the bitter taste at the back of his throat. "What time is it?"

"Just after six-thirty," said Pepper. "We were debating whether to wake Agent Coulson." She gestured to the next room, where Coulson was stretched out on the sofa, his slung arm crossing his chest giving him the appearance of a slumbering vampire.

"His phone will be ringing soon enough," said Tony. "Give him five more minutes, Ma."

Pepper made a face at him, but was soon fixing her attention back on Steve. "How are you, Mr. Rogers? Did you sleep all right?"

"Yes, thank you." Steve could tell they were waiting for him to say more, and when he didn't, they quietly resumed their conversation. He was grateful.

As Tony had said, Coulson's phone rang a few minutes later. As he fumbled through his discarded jacket to answer it, Pepper stood from her chair. "That just might be your cue," she said with a sympathetic smile. "I think I'll go wake Ms. Foster, so she has a minute to freshen up before you go."

Once they had their moment of semi-privacy, Steve turned to Tony. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "For last night. I'm sorry if I--"

"We've all had nights like that," Tony replied. "Don't worry about it."

Steve made a doubtful face. "Just like it?"

Tony glanced to Coulson, still on the phone, and the hallway where Pepper had disappeared. He leaned forward against the table. "Last year, there was this man," he said in a lower tone. "Got his hands on my reactor and used it to power a suit he'd made, like mine. Except, you know, bigger and--" His lip twitched "--uglier. He was going to hurt innocent people, including Pepper and me. So we did what we had to do. We killed him." He swirling the coffee around in his mug. "The real kicker? I knew the guy almost my whole life. He was my dad's best friend and business partner, old Obadiah Stane. So, yeah. I know what it's like to think you know someone and be wrong."

Steve's shoulders gradually fell as he listened. "I'm sorry."

Tony downed the rest of the coffee. "Now when it comes to finding out the girl you slept with was really a guy, you'll want to talk to Rhodey."

Steve grimaced and rubbed his face as Coulson came over. His suit was rumpled and there were circles under his eyes, but it didn't affect his characteristically unflappable composure. "Director Fury needs us back on base. You, too, Stark."

"I'm on bed rest," Tony protested.

"If you're well enough to run down eight flights of stairs, you're well enough to report in," said Coulson. He eyed their mugs enviously. "Is there any of that left?"

***

An hour later they were back at the base, having been given only a brief chance to change clothes and freshen up. Fury wasted no time in ushering them all, including Erik, Clint, and Natasha, into a waiting helicopter. "I had planned on bringing you all together for this," he said as they took off, "but not this soon. Our new best friend Loki has forced me to up the time table. I would have liked to have one more of you aboard, but we'll make do." His face hardened. "I'm beginning the Avengers Initiative."

Everyone straightened. They had each heard the rumors and were eager to finally have them validated and explained. "What exactly _is_ the Initiative?" Clint asked first.

"It's a team." Fury showed off the folder tucked under his arm. "At the end of the Second World War, when S.H.I.E.L.D. was formed, the top agents had an idea: to create a unit comprised of extraordinary individuals that could stand together against our toughest adversaries." He huffed. "I'm sure they wouldn't be proud of us to know that adversary is still HYDRA, but nevertheless, we will fight." He looked from one to the next with due seriousness. "As Avengers."

"Interesting name choice," remarked Natasha.

Steve nodded. "Who or what are we avenging?"

Fury stared straight back at him. "You, Cap."

"What?"

Fury passed him the folder. "Toward the end of the war, a unit was formed," he explained. "By our own Captain America, Steve Rogers. They called themselves the Howling Commandos. When the SSR was divided and S.H.I.E.L.D. was formed, its founding members used that unit as inspiration to draft the first Avengers Initiative."

Steve paged through the folder and came across a photo of the Commandos, yellowed with age. He remembered exactly when it had been taken. The next pages detailed its members, describing their specific skill sets, with notes in familiar handwriting that detailed how each contributed to the effectiveness of the group. Two pages later he found a second photo taken after the war: the Commandos without their leader, but pictured with Col. Phillips, Peggy Carter, and Howard Stark.

"In 1945, the Commandos lost their captain," Fury went on. "They kept fighting, as any good soldiers would, but for the SSR it was a devastating loss. When Carter and Stark penned the Initiative, it was out of respect for the SSR's finest."

"Peggy." Steve passed his thumb gently over her worn image. He glanced to Tony and finally understood the strange expression he had worn during their first meeting. "And Howard. They came up with all of this?" He licked his lips. "But why aren't there already Avengers?"

"It never got off the ground." Fury motioned for Steve to pass the folder around so they could all see. "The government was afraid of such a unit, thinking they wouldn't be able to control it as tightly as they'd want. Imagine that." He rolled his eye. "It's taken over half a century and a whole lot of bullshitting but it's finally going through. You four are my Avengers."

"And we're...just along for the ride?" said Erik.

"We need you to continue your research into Asgard, but the base has been compromised. Until further notice, all primary S.H.I.E.L.D. operations are being moved to a more secure site."

"Which is?" prompted Natasha.

Fury moved to the helicopter door, and everyone made sure to brace themselves and secure the Avengers folder as he jerked it open. The Atlantic stretched out below them, aquamarine in the early morning and bristling with white caps. When the helicopter turned it afforded the passengers inside a glimpse of steel gray piercing the waters: a ship, larger than Steve had ever seen, with a broad, flat bow and dozens of people running about on top of it. Everyone crowded closer as the helicopter swooped in for a landing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Fury said, "welcome to the Avengers."


	11. Chapter 11

Loki awoke, like he usually did, to the intermitted beep of heart-rate monitors. It sounded slower than usual. He kept his eyes closed and listened, irritated with the naiveté of humans. They thought they knew how to measure life, with dials and displays and blips. Loki understood better than even most of his godly kin how misguided their attempts were. He had passed through the eye of the universe. He felt life as the energy it was, flowing underneath the flesh. The evening before, he had spent hours contemplating it. 

But when he woke up every morning to the blare of human science, his victory dulled. Artificial lights stung his eyes and the humans' attempts at fabric chafed his dry skin. No position, either lying or sitting, offered him sustainable comfort. He felt as if his body were changing daily, and even with the power of the Tesseract ever at his fingers it was a struggle to maintain his transformation while allowing it growth. He ached and hungered more than he'd ever thought possible in such a short time. 

"Women," he grumbled when Synthia and Johanna called on him. "Are you all indestructible?"

"Do you have a newfound appreciation for us, Lord Loki?" Synthia asked with a faint smile.

Loki leaned forward, and all around him wires pulled taut. Their rattling echoed in the immense chamber. It reminded him of the halls of Asgard and he hated it. "Perhaps. You have something to report, Johanna?"

"Everything is progressing as planned," she said. "But we're running through our supplies quickly. We need to find a more reliable source of rations."

Loki frowned at her tone. "You have something in mind."

"Yes, sir."

Loki watched Synthia out of the corner of his eye as she moved amongst the various pieces of equipment strewn about his crude throne room. "Very well. You will proceed under my supervision."

"You shouldn't overstress yourself, sir," Synthia warned.

Loki scoffed. "I know my limits." He settled back, but there was still no comfortable position. "Tell me your plan, Johanna."

***

Two months had passed without any sign of Loki or Hydra.

It wasn't the most dramatic beginning for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new team of Avengers, but it suited Steve just fine. Every morning he woke up to rolling waves and salt air. His quarters on the carrier were smaller than on the base but he didn't mind. Out on the water everything seemed simpler, and after the first few days of being deployed often, he fell into a familiar, sane rhythm of training, checking in, hearing about Jane's progress in the lab and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s progress rebuilding their facility. He could sometimes go for hours without even thinking about Loki.

It was harder, at night. He would lie in bed with his porthole open, listening to the water lap against the hull, and try to make sense of it all. Sometimes he was overcome with righteous anger, to the point where he would abandon his bed for the deck and run laps until the fire eased out of him. Sometimes he tossed and turned, speculating for the umpteenth time on Loki's inexplicable motivations and untrustworthy confessions. Sometimes he remembered Loki's downcast eyes and he pitied him. There were even rare times when he dreamt of a warm, wet body drawing him in, and he would wake up sweating and ashamed. Only once he gave in, his mouth in his pillow as his fist pumped over his cock, but when he imagined Lori beneath him she became Loki every time. He pictured strong hands and taut muscle scraping along his body, pinning him. He'd never thought it possible that he could take so much pleasure in the fantasy of a man wrapping him up, and long after he came he lay still, a stranger in his skin.

Sometimes he sat on the edge of the bow and watched the moon. It was on such a night, almost nine weeks after arriving, that Coulson found him.

Coulson had been the carrier's least frequent guest. He spent more time than any of them in the field, coordinating with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s units across the country, and Steve had heard that he was only spending one night before flying off again. It was the middle of the night but he was still in his signature suit as he strolled up next to Steve.

"Can't sleep?" he said.

Steve watched the moon. It was mostly full, but waning. "Agent Coulson," he found himself saying. "Do you have any kids?"

Coulson's shoes scuffed against the deck. "No, Captain. Why?"

"I never really thought about having kids," said Steve. "Part of me assumed that I would, someday, without really thinking about how it would happen. That's just how things were supposed to be, back then. Grow up. Get married. Have kids."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Coulson paused. "Are you thinking that won't happen now?"

Steve had long since gotten over the impulse to wince. "Not exactly," he said. "I was thinking how naïve that is. I don't even know if I'd be a good father."

Coulson chuckled warmly. "I think you'd do just fine."

"Thanks, sir." Steve leaned back on his hands. Loki had promised him to contact often, but so far he had heard nothing. He wasn't sure if he dared to hope that it had all been lies after all. "Sorry--did you need something?"

"We think HYDRA's made a move," said Coulson.

***

"You know," said Tony as soon as Steve got out of the SUV, "if you'd had one of these--" he gestured to his Iron Man suit "--we might have actually been able to leave at the same time."

Steve zipped up his tactical vest. He had been given a uniform but they were among civilians, and he hadn't wanted to call too much attention. Not that that seemed to bother Stark. "So this is the place?"

"One of the Midwest's largest distributors of groceries and home goods," said Tony, opening his face mask. He led Steve and his small collection of agents into the Wisconsin warehouse. "I've already talked to the owners. Just after closing the alarm went off. The police showed up, came inside, and stopped reporting in. Same thing happened to the back-up. About two hours after the first report, the police finally got a hold of the owner, and he showed up himself. He found _this_."

The inside of the warehouse was brightly lit, but there was very little to see. Rows of industrial shelves and palettes filled the space, but many of them had been emptied of their contents. From what Steve could tell it was the perishables that had been hit the hardest: dairy, eggs, and meat had been entirely wiped out. There seemed to be a sizable dent made in the quantity of canned fruits and vegetables as well. "They're replenishing their supplies," he said.

"Stole two refrigerator trucks and a high-low while they were at it," Tony added. "Mostly food went missing, but another warehouse up the street got hit for soap and detergent. Considering the fact that no one spotted a high-low making its way down the freeway, I think it's safe to assume they had some cloaking help from a friend of ours."

Steve scraped his hand across his mouth. "You sound pretty positive."

"There's one more thing."

Tony led him to the office, where three security guards and six policemen were huddled together under blankets as they related their story to another officer. "They all said the same thing," Tony told Steve. "They don't remember anything, except that it got cold all of a sudden, and they blacked out. They woke up when the owner came."

He motioned for Steve to continue into the room, so he did so. A pointed finger from one of the guards turned him toward the far window, where someone had etched into the glass the words:

_I hurt no one, just as I promised._

Steve's heart beat a little faster as he rejoined Tony outside the office. "He was here," he said. "Loki himself was here?"

"The security cameras blacked out just like the guards," said Tony. "And no one's found any prints. But yeah, it looks that way." He frowned and drew Steve further away from the various police officers milling about. "There is an old Hammer facility about three hundred miles from here," he said. "In upper Michigan. It was one of the first places Fury's guys checked out after the attack on S.H.I.E.L.D. but they found nothing. I took another look for myself."

Steve glared at him. "Stark--"

"It took so damn long for you to get here--I was bored. I did a fly-by but didn't see anything, except a few trees cleared that seemed fairly recent."

"Stark, you know what I agreed to," Steve said angrily. "If they'd actually been there what would you have done by yourself?"

"Probably have gotten my ass out of there," Tony admitted. "But I managed to pick up a faint energy signature heading north from here. Isn't it at least better to have an _idea_ of where they might be, so we know where to go once the bridge is done?"

"Yes, but we need to be careful. If Loki thinks we're actively looking for him...."

They headed back outside, and Steve found himself looking instinctually for the moon. "How far were you able to follow the energy signature?" he asked quietly.

"Not far," said Tony. "Enough to know that the facility in Skanee is a safe bet. Once I'm back in Manhattan I can point a satellite at it--maybe an infra-red will give us a better idea if it's what we're looking for." After a pause he added, "But there're still a few hours until sunrise. You and your goon squad might want to spend it at the motel down the street before heading back."

Steve sighed. "They're not 'goons,' they're Coulson's agents." Despite how he had started the night, after a jet ride and a note from Loki he was eager for a mattress at his back. "But you're right. There's not much good we can do here."

"Then I'll see you back at the carrier." Tony's mask clanged shut and he took off, rocketing east.

Steve took Tony's suggestion and rented rooms for him and the three agents Coulson had insisted accompany him. It was nearly three in the morning, and Steve only bothered to remove his boots and vest before dropping onto the bed. He wasn't confident he would be able to sleep easily on dry land after finally becoming accustomed to the sea, but he was eager to make the attempt. As soon as he closed his eyes, his phone rang.

Steve fished it out of his vest and answered. "Rogers."

"Are you alone?"

The familiar voice froze Steve in place. Immediately his heart began to pound and his mouth went dry. "Loki." He glanced around the room in paranoia of being watched. "Yes," he said. "I'm alone."

Loki sighed, long and weary. "Are you well?"

Steve's brow knit. "Yes. I'm...fine." After two months of silence, it felt like an absurd way to begin a conversation. "I got your note, in Milwaukee."

"Good. You see, I kept my word. Not one mortal suffered."

"You still stole from them," said Steve. He rolled onto his back; the stability against his spine was a much appreciated comfort. "It could still be considered an 'attack.'"

"Then you are welcome to come and find me, and see what _I_ consider an attack," Loki growled. 

Something rustled on the other end of the line, as if Loki was drawing the phone away. "Wait!" Steve said on impulse. "Don't hang up."

Loki went quiet, but the line wasn't dead. Steve could still hear through it a low, pulsing hum, like machinery operating at heavy power. "Don't hang up," he said again. "I want to talk."

Fabric rustled. "What do you want to talk about?" Loki asked.

He sounded raspy. Steve thought at first it was the fault of the phone, but when he pressed the speaker closer to his ear he could hear Loki's labored breath. It unnerved him more than it ought to have. "We can start with why you called me," he said slowly. "It's been over two months."

Loki chuckled, and the hoarse crackle beneath it confirmed Steve's worry. "Have you been missing me, Steven?" he drawled.

"Are you all right? You don't sound...like yourself."

"How do I sound?" said Loki. He laughed again, sending goose bumps down Steve's neck. "Like a madman, hm? Well. Now you can say you were right."

Steve shook his head. "Loki--"

"For I'm not even in my right body. How can I be expected to be in my right mind?"

"Loki, stop." Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He should have known better than to be drawn in; it could have been a trick, like everything else. He told himself to hang up. Instead, he said, "Just tell me what's happened."

"Nothing has happened," said Loki. "My followers are well rested, well fed. They are buzzing. Like bees to the queen." He growled quietly. "Always buzzing in my ears. I'm looking forward to killing them."

"Killing HYDRA?"

"Yes, yes, killing HYDRA. Down to the heart of them, so their heads won't grow back." When Steve didn't reply, Loki said, "Shouldn't you be encouraging me? HYDRA is your enemy."

Steve bit his lip. He wasn't a manipulator or a negotiator. Any of his peers would have known how to talk to Loki then, cheer him into bringing his own army down around his ears. He took in a slow breath. "HYDRA was your enemy, too, once," he said. "During the war."

"Yes," Loki hissed through his teeth. "Yes, so they were."

"Then if you hate them so much, why are you still working together? It's not too late to leave them."

"No, it's far too late..."

Fabric rustled again, and for a moment Loki sounded even more breathless. Plastic tapped against plastic and a device bleeped in the background. Loki was holding the phone away from him, and for the first time Steve could make out a steady blip like a heart-rate monitor.

"There's something really wrong with you," Steve murmured, "isn't there?"

More ambient noise preceded Loki's return to the phone. "There is no going back," he said bitterly. "For either of us." He groaned. "I'm just so tired."

Steve clenched his fist against his stomach. It was too difficult for him to fit Loki's weary voice to his memory of him. He had imagined how they might cross paths, what attacks Loki would launch on him and how he would defend. He had even accepted the possibility that he would have to be the death of Loki, but he had only pictured it as happening in a flurry of violence. The thought of Loki, weak and maybe cowering, had never occurred to him. It twisted his stomach in a way he'd never expected.

"Does it have to do with the baby?" he asked quietly.

He held the breath as he waited for an answer. Part of him expected Loki to laugh at him again, to mock him for having ever believed such an outrageous lie. It wouldn't make everything all right, but maybe then he could sleep at night. But as Loki continued to hesitate, cold sweat formed on Steve's brow. He didn't know what to wish for.

"This child..." Loki gave a strange, strangled chuckle. "Oh Steven, this child of yours is as tenacious as you already. She will be all yours, I know. But how she drains on me. Night and day, eating and gorging. Can a child grow in your bones? She will have to be a god, for all that she's taking from me."

His words were chilling and nonsensical, but it was one in particular that made Steve's heart clench. "She?" Steve repeated weakly.

"The child is female."

"You..." When Steve was able to breathe again, it was to take in a full gulp of air. "You're sure? So soon?"

"Yes."

Steve dropped the phone onto his pillow so he could rub his face with both hands. A daughter. His lungs fluttered around each shallow breath as he let the word shatter its way through him. For weeks he had struggled over and mostly denied the possibility that Loki's mad claims were true, but hearing Loki declare it so openly destroyed any remaining doubt. He was going to be a father to a little girl. 

But not any normal girl. His unexpected daughter would be child to a god, raised against HYDRA's bosom. There would be no little dresses and baby dolls, not in the world of war Loki had planned. Steve couldn't even be sure that he would ever see the child. Any dream he'd ever had of family, of fatherhood crumbled before him, and with a growl of frustration he drew the phone back to him.

"I want to see you," he blurted out.

The silence on Loki's end was ominous. "Why?"

"We have to talk about this." Steve pulled himself together and rubbed the emotion out of his eyes. "When you first told me about your plans, you were so confident. But listening to you now--there's something wrong, isn't there? You're exhausted. I want to know what's going on."

"There's nothing you need to know," said Loki. "You needn't worry until the child is born."

"I _am_ worried," Steve insisted. "You and HYDRA may be wicked but that child is innocent, and she's mine." Despite his attempts at composure saying the words aloud made his throat tight. "I need to know she's being taken care of."

"No one needs to worry about this child. She will be an Empress."

Something settled into the mattress, and when Steve turned his head he was startled to find Loki stretched out beside him. He was dressed in a sweeping robe of green and gold that rippled and pooled over his slim physique, and his hair trailed in delicate tendrils across Steve's pillow. Even as a projection his face was pale, his cheeks sunken in. It was eerie and painful to see Loki curled up next to him, so similar to what had once been a tender memory.

"I promise she will be strong enough for you," Loki said, but his lips didn't move--his voice still emptied out of the phone speaker. "She will be a daughter worthy of Captain America."

"Is that all that matters to you?" Steve asked quietly. "Strength and power?"

"It's all that matters anywhere," he replied.

"That's not true." Steve reached out but stopped himself before touching him. "That's not what matters to me."

"Then what?"

Loki took Steve's hand and drew it closer until his lips brushed against the backs of Steve's knuckles. The fleeting touch gave Steve a chill. Loki's emerald eyes were sharp in the darkened room, but as Steve stared back he saw only the shadows at their edges. 

"I know you value strength as much as I do," Loki continued. His lips moved slightly against Steve's hand, independent of his words. "You fought desperately to obtain it, and you would have nothing that you have today if not for the power I gave you. Do not try to play the saint so well that you forget that."

"I haven't forgotten," said Steve. "And maybe you're right. But power isn't everything. Even without it, I would have found a way to fight."

Loki dug his fingers into the meat of Steve's palm. "You were wretched," his voice hissed in Steve's ear. "If Dr. Erskine hadn't picked you, I might have killed you myself. It would have been a kindness." Loki grimaced against Steve's knuckles, his teeth gently gnawing. "Pity wasted on the weak is selfishness itself."

Steve's eyes narrowed. "Then I won't pity you," he said.

Loki stopped. He glared at Steve through the gaps in his fingers. "You think me weak?"

"I _know_ you're weak."

Loki pushed himself up onto his elbows. "You're surrounding yourself with drones," Steve continued as Loki stared down on him. "People you despise, just so you can say you're not in this alone. When I refused to join you, you tried to threaten innocent people and then ran away. You're just a bully. Maybe my strength came from you, but I earned it. You had to lie and steal for everything you have now."

Loki was very still, at Steve's side and against Steve's ear. Even his hoarse breath had quieted, but Steve could feel him vibrating like a spider's web around a fly. His seams were weak and fraying. Steve's knuckles stung with the imprints of Loki's teeth as he lifted his hand and brushed them against Loki's jaw.

"But there's a little weakness in me, too," said Steve. "Because for some reason, I want to help you."

Loki looked away, but he tilted his head so that Steve's faint caress fell over his lips. "Because of your child," he murmured.

"Not just that." Steve rotated his wrist, cradling Loki's cheek against his palm. It was cool to the touch. "Maybe it's just because I think you _can_ be helped."

Loki smiled as he covered Steve's hand with his. "You're right," he said. "You _are_ weak."

He kissed Steve's palm. His fingertips kneaded into the tender skin between Steve's knuckles and then slid upward, tracing each calloused digit to their tips. Up and down he slowly stroked, up and down, while his lips played at Steve's thumb. His tongue flickered across the nail.

"Loki," said Steve as goose bumps spread up his arm.

He tried to pull his hand back, but Loki followed. The mattress shifted and then Loki was climbing on top of him. Steve pushed at him but his arm went right though as if Loki were no more than a cloud of fog. Even when Loki's weight settled on his stomach no amount of shifting or pawing would dislodge it.

"Here's your chance," Loki taunted in a rough whisper. "Help me."

Loki leaned down and kissed him. His skin was cold but his mouth was warm and deep, and he had little trouble easing Steve's lips to part. He tasted familiar. Steve tried to shove him off, but then Loki's hand snapped around his wrist and pinned it to the bed. 

"Or should I help you?" Loki's voice rumbled in Steve's ear, even as he massaged Steve's tongue with his own. "Let me make up for how cruel I've been to you."

Steve groaned and tried to flatten against the mattress, but there was no escaping Loki. Even knowing that there was no actual body pressing into him, no thick, warm robes spilling over and between his thighs, it did nothing to keep the heat from slithering through him. Loki's projection was almost more suffocating than the real thing, as if he were filling the room, poisoning each breath of air that rushed into Steve's lungs.

"Because it was cruel, wasn't it?" Loki continued. He threaded his fingers through Steve's and kept him detained as his other hand roamed down his chest. "To give you so much pleasure and then leave so abruptly. No wonder you've been missing me."

Steve pulled his head away. "Loki, stop." His hand was clenched until trembling around the phone and it didn't occur to him that it was free; his attention was drawn too firmly to Loki's hand gliding over his stomach. "This isn't what I meant."

" _I'm_ not too proud to admit it," Loki murmured against his throat. "I've missed you."

His fingers slipped beneath Steve's waistband. Steve gritted his teeth, hating how his body betrayed him by swelling eagerly into Loki's nimble grip. It had been cruel--it _was_ cruel that a slow squeeze from a gentle hand could light fires in his blood. Guilty dreams blazed to life at the back of his mind and he gasped at the intensity of his own arousal. For one long night he had known passion and some part of him was eager, even desperate for a fresh taste. When Loki's mouth returned to his he didn't try to avoid it. He kissed Loki back, his muddled brain reasoning away the disgust and apprehension. He arched into Loki's stroking fingers and told himself that if he was sincere, Loki would follow suit. If he could win Loki over with raw chemistry, the rest would come later. This was the job he was meant to do.

Loki abruptly jerked back--or more accurately, jerked briefly out of existence. Steve shivered with the rush of empty air. When he opened his eyes Loki was shrinking off him, his shoulders hunching beneath his gripping hands. A look of pain seared his face and he disappeared completely.

"Loki?" Steve sat up, gasping and confused as he scanned the room. When Loki didn't reappear he turned his attention to the phone. "What happened?"

The end of the line hissed with heavy, wheezing breath, and over it Steve could hear the quickening wail of the heart-rate monitor. "Loki," he said urgently. "Are you all right?"

"No," Loki groaned from far away. "No."

Steve scraped his mouth on his sleeve. He was still breathing hard himself, and with his pulse already in his ears it was hard to make out what might have been happening through the phone. He waited in frustrated helplessness until it sounded like Loki was beginning to calm.

"Are you all right?" he asked again.

Fabric and plastic rustled, followed by Loki's frail, bitter laughter. "Stop asking."

"Just tell me," said Steve, but when he got no answer, he sighed. "Loki...I still want to see you. For real."

"I won't help you break our truce," said Loki. 

"You don't have to tell me where you are; I just need to see you in person. We can meet anywhere you want."

Loki panted quietly against the backdrop of the slowing mechanical bleeps. "I can't leave."

The confession, delivered with such hesitation and almost shame, chilled Steve more than anything Loki had said that night. "What the hell is going on over there?" he muttered. Rather than wait for another cryptic answer, he continued. "Then send someone to get me. They can blindfold me if you want. I don't care where you are, I just need to be there. All right?"

After another long pause, Loki said, "Unlock your door and lie back down on the bed."

Steve wiped his palms on his knees and then moved to do as asked. "Are you going to use your magic? Teleport me or something?"

"If I could, you wouldn't have to unlock the door," Loki retorted.

Steve was too exhausted to roll his eyes. "Wait," he said. "I need to talk to Stark."

"You will tell _no one_."

"Someone has to cover for me, or S.H.I.E.L.D. will come looking." He unlocked the door despite his apprehension and returned to the bed. "Hold on--I'll call you back." Before Loki could protest, he hung up and dialed Tony.

"Rogers," Tony greeted. A whirl of turbines in the background indicated he was still in his suit. "Did I forget something?"

Steve pulled his boots back on. "Is my phone still bugged?"

"Well..." Tony had the decency to sound sheepish. "You never actually asked me to change that. But it doesn't connect to Fury anymore, and it's not like I've been listening in. Do you need me to?"

"No," Steve said immediately. "No, just listen to me now. I need you to come back and babysit my goon squad. They're not going to like it when they realize I'm gone."

"What? Where are you going?"

Steve tucked the phone into his shoulder as he tied his laces. "Loki agreed to meet me."

" _What_?"

"There's something going on," Steve explained. "I don't know what and I need to find out. He could be in trouble, and..." He swallowed. "I'm worried about the baby."

Tony hummed doubtfully. "I don't know, Rogers. It could be some kind of trap."

"You're the one who said I'm the only person Loki won't destroy on sight. I have to go." He straightened up. "Please just cover for me, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You know there's nowhere out there for me to de-suit," Tony complained. "But I'll think of something. Just watch your back."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." 

Steve hung up, but before dialing Loki again he dropped onto his back. His arousal had dissipated but he was still tightly wound and almost faint. They were going to meet again. He had no idea what he would do.

Loki answered after the fourth ring. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes." Steve took a deep breath. "What are going to do?"

"Just close your eyes, Steven. It won't hurt."

The mattress depressed next to him. Steve kept his eyes closed, not out of trust as much as resignation. Within seconds something heavy and cold settled over him, and he fell swiftly and deeply asleep.

***

When Stove awoke, it was to two men wrestling him out of the back of a van. His hands were bound in front of him; he was certain he could break the frail handcuff chain with enough effort, but beyond the two detaining him he couldn't be sure how many men were nearby, or if they were armed. He opened his eyes, but a black hood had been corded over his head that blocked out any view or noise of his surroundings. He had no choice but to follow his captors' prodding across uneven gravel. He counted the steps.

They passed through whirring doors, into an echoing, empty space, then through more doors, down a set of stairs, through a corridor, and finally, into an elevator. It was dizzying in the blackness, and it didn't help that Steve's pulse was starting to pick up. He expected at any moment to hear a familiar voice, and his mind raced, trying to formulate a game plan. He had insisted on the meeting and still he had no idea what he would say or do once it was on him.

He estimated six stories underground when the elevator stopped, and he was herded into another corridor. When he realized he was holding his breath he forced himself to release it. He was finally convincing himself to calm down when he caught the sharp tap of approaching footsteps, and he stiffened all over again.

"Oh, Jesus, what is this?" The voice was muffled through the hood and only distantly familiar; Steve couldn't place it. "Do you know who this is? You'd better be glad I turned off his security feed, because really, I'd hate to think what he'd do to you if he saw this."

"Herr Schmidt said--" one of the guards began.

"Yeah, I know, I know." Steve flinched when someone grabbed his hands, and then the cuffs were released. "Just leave him with me, all right? We'll be fine."

The hood was pulled off, and Steve winced under a barrage of iridescent lighting. He rubbed his eyes and then his wrists, blinking up and down the sleek corridors. Unlike the military bases he was used to, the walls were shaded a warm, matte copper, which seemed to emanate a prickling heat. Everything felt charged and almost alive despite its precision. Steve did his best to commit every detail to memory and then finally laid eyes on his host.

Steve pursed his lips. "Justin Hammer."

"You remember me." Hammer grinned. "I'm touched." He was dressed far more impressively than Steve had last seen him, in a charcoal, three-piece suit with a silver tiepin and green pocket square. He waved at the guards. "I said I've got him. He's not going anywhere--are you, Captain Rogers?"

"Not until I've seen him," Steve replied carefully.

Once the guards had relented, Hammer led Steve down the corridor. The walls were lined with doors, each bearing keycard readers and enforced with what looked like steel. Steve made mental notes of all of them as well, though his attention was drawn most fiercely to the door at the end, which seemed to be their destination. He swallowed. "He _is_ here, isn't he?" he asked.

"Oh yes, he's definitely here. Can't you feel it?" Hammer trailed his fingertips along the wall. "Sometimes you can even tell what kind of mood he's in. Not a good one, I'd say."

Steve frowned, and when he touched the wall he felt it, too: the hum of the Tesseract. When he let his arm fall it was covered in goose bumps. "Does he know _I'm_ here?"

Hammer gave a strange, wry chuckle. "I'm sure he does."

Steve quickened his pace to put him directly beside Hammer. "Why are you doing this, Hammer? Why work for him? You must know what he's planning to do."

"I know better than you do," Hammer said, though without the bravado Steve would have expected. "Don't get me wrong; I know we look crazy. But it's kind of a crazy world these days. Isn't it?"

He stopped outside the last door and looked at Steve. A long, silent moment passed, and though Steve was grateful for the opportunity to steel his nerves, the fact that Hammer was offering him it made him suspicious. "What?"

Hammer freed a key card from his lapel. "I should warn you," he said grimly, "you're not going to like what you see in there."

He swiped the card, and a series of beeps preluded the heavy steel door grinding open. More goose bumps flooded up and down Steve's skin but he held fast, staring straight ahead into the chamber. It was even warmer than the corridor and it was humming with a low, intense reverberation. Bright, blue-tinted lights flickered against the coppery walls to create strange hues and dancing shadows.

With a deep breath, Steve entered. His footsteps echoed against the tall ceiling and various metallic devices and displays. Every bit of the chamber was being put to use. Computers and their monitors lined the walls and a dozen tables bore great hunks of machinery that Steve couldn't begin to identify. It was all connected. Wires and tubes ran floor to walls in all directions and dangled from the ceiling, forming an intricate lattice that gleamed like light on a spider web. Instinctually Steve traced them to the source at the center of the room: a great, hulking ring of glass and metal that he recognized as the makings of an arc reactor. But unlike the swirling, white energies that he had glimpsed in Stark's files, the reactor was illuminated with pure, unmoving light. It shimmered instead of raced, bright and almost pulsing. 

Steve was so taken in by the complexity that he didn't see at first that the room was occupied. It took a shift of movement to draw his gaze to the figure seated in front of the glowing spectacle. Placed like a throne in front of the reactor was a broad, tall-backed copper chair, draped with heaps of dark-colored fabric. More monitors and equipment framed either side, one of them measuring out a slow and steady heartbeat. 

It was there that Steve found Loki. He was slumped within the waves of fabric, both hands upturned on the armrests, his chin resting on his chest as if he were asleep. His hair had grown miraculously longer and nearly reached his waist in limp curls. Steve licked his lips, but before he could get any words out, he finally registered the rest of the grotesque scene before him.

Loki was not enthroned in front of HYDRA's mad science; he was a part of it. His bared wrists were host to IV needles and small, taped-on sensors. Tubes and wires snaked down the front of his robes like pawing arms, the largest of them an inch in diameter that glowed in a steady pulse. The light repeated not only the surrounding lattice but in Loki's skin itself, as if his veins were being illuminated from the inside in strange, scar-like patterns. Even his skin was a sickly, blue tint. If it weren't for the quiet hiss of breath through his slack lips, or the bleep of the monitor at his side, he might not have been recognizable as a living thing at all.

Steve couldn't breathe. He stared in incredulous horror at the man before him, if he could even be called that. His eyes skipped from Loki's downturned face, to his stiffly curled fingers, to the swell of his belly beneath the robes. Hammer's warning had done nothing to prepare him for the creature in front of him, and he stumbled back, disoriented.

"What have you done?" He whirled on Hammer and snatched him by the front of his jacket. "What the hell have you done to him?"

"Come closer," said Loki, "and see for yourself."

Hammer smiled grimly. The expression made Steve ill, and he let the man go, turning back to the throne. As he drew closer he could feel even more of the unnatural heat flowing from the reactor and its pumping veins. "Loki...." His mouth went dry. "What is this...?" He reached out, but before their hands could touch Loki withdrew.

"Don't touch me," said Loki. His voice was rough with strain. "I don't know if even your mortal body could take it."

He opened his eyes. They were red and blazing in the already harshly-lit room. The rest of him remained still, and Steve had to wonder again if the body before him was even alive. The way Loki sat crumpled in his seat reminded Steve too much of a discarded doll.

"Loki," he said again, at a loss for words. The longer he met Loki's dead-eyed stare, however, the more he remembered why he had come. "You wanted to see me."

"It was you who invited yourself," Loki reminded him. "What do you want?"

Loki stretched. It took far longer than should have been normal. He moved each shoulder and limb with such deliberate caution Steve almost expected him to creak. His eyelids fluttered and his elbows pushed against the armrests.

"You sounded like you needed me." Watching him, Steve knew it to be even truer than he'd expected. "What are they doing to you? You're..." He looked again to the largest of the tubes leaving Loki's robes and followed its curved path to the reactor. "The Tesseract is in there, isn't it?" he murmured. All at once he understood. "You're siphoning the Tesseract's energy directly into your body?"

"Into my womb," Loki corrected. He passed his hand over his abdomen, and the gentle tug of his fingers over the cloth made the shape of it clearer. "Into the child."

"Why?" Steve tried not to look, but it was hard not to notice that Loki was far too heavy for having been pregnant a mere two months. "What is it doing to her?" He came closer; his hands were shaking and he wanted to snatch Loki up, demand answers. "What are _you_ doing to her?"

"The child is developing in the embrace of the Tesseract," he said. "As you can see, the process is proceeding much faster because of it." He moved his fingertips in tiny circles over his stomach. "Almost three times as fast, as far as anyone can determine. It won't be long. And when it's born, no living thing in all the nine realms will be as powerful."

"You're making her into a weapon." Steve's chest constricted, and at last his shock fell away, replaced by anger and disgust. "She's not an _it_ , she's a child! _Your_ child!"

"And it will be strength itself. It must be, if it's to be a god of men."

Steve leaned forward against the armrests, and Loki jerked his other hand back to prevent them from touching. "You're using her," Steve accused. "After everything you told me about your father, the way you were raised, you're doing the same thing and worse. Is she nothing but a tool to you?"

Loki squirmed as if he could sink deeper into his throne. "I am giving her a gift," he said, but his lips curled as he spoke as if tasting bitterness on each word. "She will be powerful beyond imagining. She will want for nothing." His eyes narrowed into crimson slits. "Least of all the recognition she deserves."

"This is about you, isn't it?" Steve clenched his hands against the throne, fearful that if he didn't stay grounded he might begin tearing the hideous, pulsing tubes out of their host. "You don't give a damn about that baby, all you want is power for yourself, you selfish coward!"

Loki glared up at him, and all around the light from the reactor and its web grew brighter. It filled the chamber with even more anxious energy; Steve could feel it bouncing off his skin. "You have no idea," Loki growled as the reactor hummed in warning behind him, "what I am going through for this child."

"I can see," said Steve. His pulse was hot in his ears, but as he looked Loki up and down once more, fear put a fresh tremor in his hands. There was almost nothing left of the cruel and confident prince that had so easily bested S.H.I.E.L.D.'s soldiers and demolished its headquarters. Loki was tense but he was fragile, cowering beneath the weight of the Tesseract. His breath was slow and strained, and though there was fire in his eyes, it wasn't enough.

Steve lowered his voice. "It's too much for you, isn't it?" he said. "God or not you still have limits. I've seen what that cube is capable of--it was never meant to be ruled by one person."

"I'm not one person," Loki said petulantly. "I'm two, remember?"

"And what if it kills you before she's born? Will it have been worth it to be ripped apart by that thing, just so you can make your own daughter into a monster?"

Loki went rigid. Something wild overtook his features and his hand shot out, striking Steve in the chest. The impact was impossible; it threw Steve onto his back like a blow from a tank. The back of his head hitting the floor made him see stars, and for one terrified moment he was convinced his sternum had caved in and was crushing the air from his lungs. It wasn't until Hammer touched his shoulder that he was able to take in a full breath once more, and with assistance he clawed to his feet.

Loki was laughing. His voice crackled and his body shook with the effort, but he laughed, and needed both hands on the armrests to propel him to his feet. The tubes and wires strained to follow as he took two halting steps forward. "Yes, that's right," he said. "I am a monster. Any child of mine will be the same."

"But she's...." Steve choked on the words, but then he shook himself and forced them through. "She's my daughter, too," he said. "And I can't let you do this."

"Do you think you can stop me?" Loki drew himself to his full height and glared Steve down with callous authority. "With the will of the Tesseract on my side? You don't understand, Steven." He feathered his hand down the tube the crossed his chest. "It _chose_ me. After a millennium of being nothing more than one of Odin's trinkets, it desires this as much as I do. I have given it something it could never have without me: the opportunity to create life. And it has given the same to me."

His hand stopped at his swollen belly, and his eyelids drooped. "Yes," he murmured. "It will have been worth it."

"Loki--"

Steve started to approach, but Hammer drew him back by the elbow. "I think Captain Rogers needs a few minutes," Hammer said. "It's a lot for him to take in at once. Do you mind if I...?"

Loki snorted and backed away. "Take care of him," he said. "Give him something to eat." He sank into his throne once more. "And send him away."

Hammer gave Steve a tug, but he stayed put, staring plaintively at Loki. "Wait, I'm not leaving," he said. "You can't just--"

Hammer leaned close to his ear. "Don't," he whispered. "You're not going to get through to him like this." He tugged him again toward the door. "Come with me." When Steve still hesitated, he added, "I won't kick you out yet, okay? Just give him a little while." He led Steve out. "I told you he was in a bad mood."

Hammer pulled him back into the hallway and down a ways into another door. Steve braced himself for more surprises, but the interior didn't look anything like the rest of the base. It was an apartment, richly furnished, with plush sofas and even a few pieces of artwork. There was no kitchen, but through the open doors Steve could see a bedroom, bathroom, and what might have been an office workshop.

Hammer gestured toward one of the sofas. "Have a seat. I'll pour us a drink."

Steve didn't trust him, but his knees were thankful for the rest. He sank into the cushions and tried to get his pulse to slow, his breath not to hitch. "I don't understand how this is possible," he said.

"I tried to warn you," said Hammer as he crossed to a wine cabinet against the wall. "Not that I really could have."

Steve rubbed his face with both hands. He had expected Loki to be stubborn, and arrogant, and maybe half mad, but nothing coming close to the reality at hand. "How can you let him do this?" he demanded of Hammer in frustration.

Hammer pulled a face as he retrieved a bottle and two glasses. "Maybe you hadn't notice, but he is an _alien_ _god_. It's not really up to me to _let_ him do anything."

"But that thing is killing him." Steve thought of the satisfaction with which his peers would receive such news and felt ill. "And he knows it; that's why he called me in the first place. I can't let him do that to himself."

"Believe me, I care about his well-being as much as you do." Hammer set both glasses on the coffee table in front of Steve and opened a bottle of scotch. "That's what the heart-rate monitors are for. We've been keeping a close eye on his vitals this whole time." He frowned as he poured the drinks. "He has gotten worse," he admitted. "But that bun in his oven is cooking fast. She'll be well done in no time."

Steve shook his head. "It's not a bun," he snapped irritably. "And it's not a pet for him to unleash; it's a _child_." He glared at the drink when Hammer offered it, but accepted. "He's lost his mind."

Hammer sat down next to him and took a long swig of the alcohol. "I know it seems that way, but he has the right idea," he said. "He'll be all right once we disconnect him from that thing, after the baby's born."

"You don't even know what that baby is going to be, though." The possibilities made Steve's head spin. "And he's going to use it to conquer the world? How can you be so calm about that?" He lowered his voice. "You have to realize that he's going to kill you once you're of no use to him anymore."

Hammer smiled. "Yeah, maybe." He shrugged. "But if not him, Johanna, or even a needle in my arm. I'll gladly take door number 3."

"You've lost your mind, too," Steve grunted. "You have no idea what you've started."

"Actually, I do." Hammer took another sip and then set his glass down. "I'll show you."

He tugged on a small chain around his neck, lifting from the inside of his vest a small device no larger than a stick of gum. A tiny spot of light gleamed at its center, bright and blue and warm. "He gave me this," said Hammer, rubbing his thumb against it. "When we first got here. It's a fraction of the Tesseract's energy." He chuckled. "Actually, it's such an infinitesimal amount of the Tesseract's total energy, it doesn't even make sense to call it a fraction. And yet, even this little _speck_ is enough to power this entire facility for a day or two." His eyes gleamed with excitement as if reflecting its light. "It could sustain a hospital for days. It could help get water to the deserts, get scientists to the bottom of the ocean. With a little more it could take us to the moon or Mars or maybe even Venus and back. _That's_ how powerful this thing is." He sighed wistfully. "And if only he'd let me sell this by the case from the beginning, we'd _already_ be the world's largest superpower."

Steve watched Hammer reverently fingering the tiny battery. "You think you're really going to conquer the whole world with just raw power?"

"Oh believe me, we could." Hammer let the battery fall. "You should see the way Johanna is stockpiling the stuff. And we already know that S.H.I.E.L.D. has nothing that can combat it." His eyes thinned with a smug grin. "Not even the Iron Man. But really, that's not what Lord Loki has in mind."

" _Lord_ Loki," Steve repeated.

"You see, he doesn't just want to be a conqueror," Hammer carried on, missing Steve's sardonic tone. "He's not just some dictator, he wants to be _king_ \--he wants to be a _god_. And with this--" he patted his chest "--he can do it. Listen." He leaned forward. "With more time we can develop this energy to do _anything_. So we start small, right? Pick some third-world nation and clean it up. Wipe out the local regime--give them food, supplies, weapons. Make them loyal. He's already a god, and that baby is going to be even more so--they'll come to him, believe me. And who's going to stop us? S.H.I.E.L.D. was just going to horde and squander that cube for its own purposes, and because of us the whole world knows that. So what will they do once we're using it for humanitarian shit? You and your friends won't be able to lift a finger. You'll have no reason to, anyway."

Steve rubbed his sore chest, trying to relieve the tension that was threading through it. "I can't imagine Loki doing that."

"Wait for it." Hammer smirked. "You see, once he has that foothold, we go bigger. Give the rest of the world a little taste of what the Tesseract can do. Sell off the batteries, develop the technology. Even Stark will be desperate to get his hands back on it. As long as we have the Tesseract itself, we're the tree of life, get it? Technology is like a drug. Once you've introduced it to a population, it doesn't take long before everyone is completely dependent on it. If we're the ones supplying it, everyone will be dependent on _us_. And that's the joke, really. By the time everyone realizes what's happened, Lord Loki will be the center of all military and economic power on the globe. They'll be worshipping him."

Hammer met Steve's gaze with full seriousness. "When the time comes, he won't have to 'conquer' anything," he said. "There's not going to be any war. The world is going to give itself to him."

Steve's expression hardened. "I am not going to give him anything," he said quietly.

Hammer's lip quirked, and he reached for his scotch again. "Anything other than that baby, you mean?"

Steve flushed, but before he could reply Hammer was talking again. "Don't worry--I'm the only one who knows," he said. "He's told everyone here that the kid is mine. Pretty wild, huh? It's probably the only reason I'm still alive." He chuckled as he nestled back in the sofa, but Steve caught a hint of strain in the corners of his eyes. "Which is why I meant it when I said I'm looking after him. Anything happens to Lord Loki and Johanna will have my head."

"Then you're just as selfish as he is."

Hammer drank down the rest of his scotch. "It's not _just_ that." His smile was worn as he twisted the glass between his hands. "He and I are a lot alike."

Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes again. "I really doubt that."

"He spent his whole life having people tell him he wasn't good enough," Hammer retorted. "Is it really any wonder either of us turned out like this?" He refilled his glass. "Not that _Captain America_ knows what that's like, huh? I'm sure if you put yourself out there, the world would hand itself to you, too. You wouldn't even have to lift a finger."

Steve wanted to protest. He remembered what it had been like growing up a ninety-pound weakling on the eve of a world war. _Not good enough_ had haunted him for years. He had never been as selfish and cowardly as these men, he was sure of that, but he remembered what bitterness tasted like. Deep down, he wondered what might have become of him if Bucky hadn't been at his side all those difficult years. If Dr. Erskine hadn't chosen the Stark Expo's booth to hunt out his potential super soldiers.

Steve glanced to the full glass in his hand and at last took a gulp. The alcohol burned down his throat but was somehow soothing. "I know what it's like," he said, not caring if Hammer believed him. "Loki and I...we have a lot in common, if you look at it a certain way."

"Hey." Hammer smacked Steve's shoulder with the back of his hand. "That means you and me are a lot alike, too, huh?"

Steve made a face and took another drink. "I need to talk to him again."

"Give him some more time." Hammer checked his watch. "He's due to be unplugged soon. You'll probably have an easier time talking to him then. But Rogers." Hammer grew serious again as he stared Steve down. "Don't try to talk him out of it."

Fresh heat steamed under Steve's skin. "You know I'm going to."

"If you talk him out of it, I'm going to talk him right back in," Hammer replied. "And I'm the one that's here, looking after him." His eyes narrowed. "This is my chance, and no one's going to take it from me this time."

"If that's how you feel," Steve said carefully, "why would you let me talk to him at all?"

"Because he likes you." Hammer took one last drink and pushed to his feet. "And he still wants you on our side." He wagged his finger at Steve. "I think you'll come around. There won't be a reason not to, once we're finished." He headed for the door, his turned back preventing him from seeing Steve's doubtful look. "I'll give you some time to think it over--and him time to cool off--before I take you back in. Just sit tight." He chuckled. "You can't move around the base without a card anyway." With a wave of his hand, he walked out.

As soon as Steve was alone he sank deep into the cushions and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. Nothing made sense. He played back Hammer's bizarre speech in his head, trying to think of how he would discredit HYDRA's plan to Loki once he had the opportunity, but everything crashed together in his brain and he could think of nothing. Only hours ago he had resolved himself to the fact that they would have to go to war against each other, but even that seemed mad in the face of Loki's new power. If he led his colleagues into battle now, with Loki in such a state, they would be annihilated. If he waited too long, Loki would be separated from the Tesseract but they would have a newborn with godly powers to contend with. HYDRA would win over the governments of the world by appealing to their greed and then it would be too late. The world would have its new master. It might have been meaningless to fight it at all.

Steve took in a deep breath, held it, let it out. "It's meaningless to fight," he said, testing the words, but as soon as they were free, his stomach twisted. In his mind's eye he saw Loki crumpled in his throne, alone in the immense chamber with only soulless machinations as companions. Red eyes gleamed up at him with dull, weary resignation. It brought him back again to a seemingly unconnected memory: waking up next to Loki in his apartment. His throat constricted when he thought of soft, warn skim beneath his fingertips, and more compelling than that, the look of faraway sorrow in her face when they were both freshly awakened.

Steve wondered if he would ever be rid of the desperation to go back in time. 


	12. Chapter 12

Half an hour later, Hammer returned. He led Steve back to the chamber at the end of the hall and swiped his card. "I'll leave you two alone, if you want," he offered. "Just don't push your luck too far."

"I'll be careful."

Steve stepped into the chamber again. The door creaked shut behind him loudly enough that Loki must have heard, but he did not pay any notice. He was standing next to his throne, typing on a computer among the various monitors and pieces of equipment connected to him. Steve approached slowly and stopped a few feet away, just in case Loki's mood was still too foul for him to risk striking distance. "Loki."

"I told Justin to send you away," said Loki without looking up.

"I'm not leaving until you speak to me." Steve licked his lips. "Properly."

"I've said everything I wish to say," Loki replied. "I gave you the chance to join me, and you chose not to. There's nothing left to discuss until our truce is over."

Steve took a step closer. "And what will happen then?" he asked. "Hammer says you're going to try and win the world over with the Tesseract's power. That you're not going to fight a war."

Loki paused in his typing but did not look over. He didn't seem to look at anything. "Does it put you at ease, knowing my strategy is a largely bloodless one?"

"No," Steve said truthfully. "Because I don't think you'll go through with it."

"And you know me so well, hm?"

"I know you took an awful lot of pleasure in destroying S.H.I.E.L.D." Steve took another step closer. "Almost killing Tony Stark. Killing good agents. I don't think you really want to use all this power for peace."

Loki pulled one of the IV needles out his wrist, his wince serving as a self-deprecating grin. "I am a monster, after all."

Steve shook his head, but stopped before he could say too much too fast. He had thought of a plan and promised himself he would stick to it. With a deep breath, he asked, "Do you remember when I told you about my friend Bucky?"

Loki finally looked at him. His red eyes were still intimidating but Steve refused to back away. "Why?" he asked warily.

"I miss him." The truth was painful but it still made him smile. "I was thinking about how much I wish I could wake up one morning, and he'd be right there. Damn, I'm sure he'd have a lot to say about all of this." 

Loki's eyes narrowed, but even when Steve paused he didn't reply or question, so Steve went on. "He was my best friend," he said, taking one last step that put them within easy distance of each other. "I didn't care if the rest of the world thought I was nothing, as long as he had my back. And he did, every time. I..." He swallowed back too much emotion. "I don't know what kind of man I'd be today, if not for him."

Loki stared straight back at him, and after a few silent beats, he smiled. "Ahh. So now we see Captain America's bloodless strategy."

Steve would not be deterred. "You never had that, did you? I know not everything you said as Lori was a lie. You told me you grew up in a family of soldiers and could never measure up. You never had anyone there to tell you that you didn't have to."

"And this is how you intend to win me over? With pity after all?" Loki scoffed and went back to removing the sensors from his forearms. "Or perhaps next you will say that all I need is _you_. Then you can be my Bucky Barnes."

"No. It's too late for that."

Loki stopped again, his fingers curled around the last of the needles. "Even if I could do that for you, it wouldn't do any good," Steve continued. "Because you wouldn't believe me. I don't think you trust yourself anymore--isn't that why I'm here? You couldn't trust me if you wanted to."

He reached out, and Loki recoiled, but it was concern that drove him back, not stubbornness or anger. Steve waited patiently until he relaxed. Both watched, breath held, as Steve's hand crossed the short distance between them to clasp Loki's bare forearm. The first touch of Loki's cold skin shot heat up Steve's arm, contradictory and tingling down to the bone of his elbow. Steve took a few slow breaths and then, confident that the Tesseract's residual energy wasn't about to tear him apart, added his second hand so he could remove the last IV needle from Loki's arm.

Loki watched him closely. Even blue, glowing, red-eyed and humming with otherworldly power, Steve thought he saw slivers of the woman that had embraced him on a sidewalk in Brooklyn. He kept his hand very still as Steve placed the needle with the others, as if waiting. Steve took the hint, lacing their fingers together. His fingertips tingled; it reminded him of when they'd "first" met in Unlimited.

"Were you that afraid it would hurt me?" he asked softly.

Loki gulped, his eyes still on their joined hands. He was trying to appear unmoved, but thanks to the markings illuminating every contour of his skin, Steve could clearly see the muscles along his jaw tensing. "I killed two of Johanna's scientists when they connected me the first time," he said.

Steve straightened, but even when he closed both hands around Loki's one the tremor didn't rise past his elbows, and he felt safe enough not to let him go yet. "Then I owe it to your blood again," he said. "Keeping me alive when I should be dead. How many times has it been now that you've saved my life, intentionally or not?"

"I never wanted you hurt," Loki murmured.

"I know." Steve leaned closer. He wanted to launch again into pleas and reason, but he felt as if Loki was hanging by a thread, and he feared any misplaced word would cut him loose. "When we were together...we had a connection. I don't know if it was just your magic, but at the time it was what I needed." He lowered his voice. "And you need me, now."

Loki's fingers tightened against Steve's. "'I need you,'" he echoed, questioning.

"You're afraid," said Steve. "This thing you're doing--it's not right, and it's hurting you. You must know that. Maybe you feel like you have to do it, but _you don't_. It's not too late to stop this, all of it. Just let me help you, and we can find a way to make it all right."

"'I need you to help me stop.'" Loki met his eyes. "You're only saying what you think you should in order to manipulate me," he said. "Did you think I wouldn't see as much?" He moved closer, and despite his best intentions, Steve retreated a step. "Tell me the truth, Steven Rogers. Why did you come here?"

"I..." Steve tried to face Loki with full confidence, but Loki towered over him, and his breath came up short. "I'm not trying to trick you," he said. "I meant what I said. But the truth is I just don't know how I feel about you." His chest tightened. "Or how you feel about me."

"Yes, you do," said Loki.

He leaned down, and Steve surprised himself by allowing a kiss to be pressed to his lips. Just like Loki's hands, the touch spread prickles of heat under Steve's skin. He told himself that he hadn't come for this. He didn't want lies even in the form of a sweet kiss, and soft breath against his face. He couldn't be tricked by those things again.

But then Loki lifted his free hand to Steve's face. He cupped his cheek and brushed his neck. The press of two fingers to Steve's jugular went unnoticed at first, but the longer they stayed connected the more of the Tesseract's energy seeped into him, pouring down his throat and into his heart.

"I want you by my side," said Loki. "I want you to be my champion." He kissed Steve again, who was suddenly light-headed and unable to protest. "I cast no spells on you when we met--the connection you felt was real. Tell me your petty mortal friends mean more to you than that."

Steve tried to do so, but his heart had begun to pound, and he gasped sharply at the sensation of light replacing the blood in his veins. It flowed through him in swift currents, leaving him exhilarated and exhausted at once. He swayed dizzily on his feet and tried to clutch at Loki's hand, but it had slipped from his and was touching his face. When Loki kissed him again, the press of two wide palms to his tender throat made everything else melt away.

"Loki," he gasped, his hands catching in Loki's robes.

"I need you," Loki said. "Isn't that what you want to hear? Stay with me, Steven." He drew Steve closer. "With our child."

Steve's knees wobbled, and he had no choice but to depend on the strength of Loki's body to keep him upright. The Tesseract's light buzzed all through him, made worse by the press of the vile tubes crossing Loki's chest. Even having witnessed and tasted magic before, he wasn't prepared for the way it surged through him, saturating every bone and sinew. He felt as if Loki was pushing stars beneath his skin. Frightened but intoxicated, he kissed Loki back. 

They were connected. Pure power swept from one into the other, carrying with it Loki's scent, Loki's desperation. Steve drank it in like a man starving. He sucked at Loki's lips and tongue and was convinced he was drawing the truth out of him. Loki did need him. Loki wanted to stop and didn't know how. Loki was weak and afraid--Steve felt it as clearly as if it was being whispered in his ears, and he ached, wanting to respond. But Loki was also overwhelming. He was godly, pulsing and hammering in all Steve's weakest places, and even as Steve moaned for more he cowered beneath the weight of him.

"Loki." Steve panted against Loki's mouth. "Wait."

"You can feel it, can't you?" Loki touched their foreheads together. "The way it fills you up. This power can make you into anything." He released a long sigh. "And you're the only mortal who can experience it as I do."

Steve shuddered. The Tesseract itself might as well have been lodged in his chest, as close as it seemed. He was sweating, and he was sure that at any moment his skin would split apart at every pore, unable to contain the raw majesty pooling inside him. "Loki, let go!"

"How many ways must I prove to you that this is fate?" Loki continued. He kissed Steve's closed eyelid, the bridge of his nose. "You came here on your own. You're drawn to this as much as--"

" _Stop_!"

Steve shoved him off and stumbled back. Even with the connection severed he could feel the magic burning at his center, and he groped for the support of a nearby table to find stability and gravity once more. With eyes closed he took gulping breaths until it began to dissipate.

Loki was very quiet, unmoving where Steve had left him. "Are you all right?" he asked when Steve had calmed.

Steve rubbed his chest; his body was still tingling, more sensitive than ever to the energy pulsing in every corner of the room. "Is this how it feels for you?" he whispered. "The entire time you're hooked up to that thing?"

He opened his eyes, and caught only a glimpse of Loki watching him before he turned back to the computer. "Yes," Loki said. "Though likely not as intensely as you felt it just now."

Steve pushed back his sweat-slick hair. Having finally come down from the high, he felt cold, even deprived. It might have almost killed him and part of him wanted it back. "My God, Loki. How can you..."

Loki pushed several buttons on the keyboard in quick succession, and then the tube crossing his chest darkened and fell silent. "It's necessary," he said. "The child has become accustomed to it. I don't know what will become of it if I stop."

He reached into his robe, and with a twist of his wrist something clicked and gave off a soft hiss. When he pulled the tube free Steve gaped at the sight of a thick, four inch needle at its end. Loki hooked it to a stand next to the computer and turned to face Steve. Gradually, the light faded from his scars. His flesh smoothed into human skin and his eyes returned to dull emerald. 

Steve tensed, and when Loki touched his face again he could still feel the traces of too-powerful magic, but it was subdued enough not to frighten him. He sighed, leaning into Loki's hand despite it all.

"Is that better?" Loki asked.

Steve kept the hand against his cheek. "Loki..." He licked his lips. "I don't know what to do with you."

"...Likewise."

Loki tugged him close again. They wrapped each other up, leaning together for support. It was bizarre, feeling Loki's long arms twist firmly around his shoulders while the swell of his pregnant belly pressed into his stomach. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and tried again, in vain, to think of some advice or plan of action. Every flicker of inspiration led to nowhere. Frustration made his breath catch, and when Loki felt it, he eased Steve back.

"Come with me," he said.

He led Steve, hand in hand, to a door in the far wall that didn't require a key card. They passed through into a smaller chamber, oddly decorated. An immense, four-poster bed featured at the center with flowing curtains, and an open door at the rear gave Steve a glimpse of an equally impressive bath. But unlike Hammer's apartment, there was no other attempt at pleasing furniture. Fanned out behind the bed's headboard stood another set of computers, monitors, IVs, and wires. 

Steve's shoulders drooped. "You keep yourself plugged into that thing even when you sleep?"

"Not the Tesseract, no," said Loki. He opened a refrigerator in one corner and retrieved a bottle of water. "This is all to monitor my health. Justin insisted."

Steve frowned as he watched Loki gulp down half the bottle on one breath. "You must be fond of him," he remarked, "to listen to his advice like that."

"He has his uses." 

He offered the rest of the bottle. Steve accepted, and it wasn't until the water touched his lips that he realized how thirsty he was. He drank what was left and tossed the bottle into a nearby wastebasket. By then Loki had moved on and was checking over the equipment behind the bed.

"No one will disrupt us here," Loki said. "There are no cameras, no microphones."

Steve watched him tap at the computer's touch screen. "Do you ever think about how it might have been different?" he found himself asking. He sat down on the edge of the mattress. "If you'd met S.H.I.E.L.D. before HYDRA, for instance?"

"Sometimes," Loki replied. "Even though I should know better."

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth from the beginning?" Steve persisted. He should have known better, too, but it didn't stop the words from coming out. "You could have come to the club as yourself. If you'd given up HYDRA to Director Fury he would have pardoned you for the prison break. Maybe even..." He was cut off by Loki's dry chuckle.

"Telling the truth is as much a skill as telling a convincing lie," said Loki. "Unfortunately, you can only master one."

"It's not funny."

"I'm not interested in speculating on the past." Loki opened a sliding panel set into the wall, revealing a cabinet holding various fresh robes. "It's a pointless exercise."

He let his robe fall, and Steve couldn't help but stare at his revealed body: masculine in every way save one. The sight of his flat chest and round abdomen should have made Steve grimace, but his eyes remained wide and trained on Loki's strange body until it was covered with a fresh, white robe.

Loki turned and caught him staring. "You never answered my question," he said.

Steve shook himself. "What?"

"Why did you really come here?" He stepped in front of Steve and stared down at him. "You've made your position clear, and I have made mine. Neither of us intends to withdraw. So why did you come?"

"I told you," said Steve. "You sounded like you needed me."

"I'm your enemy. Did you really think you would be able to convince me to surrender so easily?"

"No," Steve admitted after only a slight hesitation. "I had hoped, but no, I didn't really think I could talk you down. Especially now." 

He rubbed his chest, remembering the pressure of the Tesseract coursing through him. It had connected them even more firmly than ever, and he was sure that he had felt in Loki the same two long months of fitful dreams that had plagued him. "But it doesn't matter if you'll be my enemy, in the end," he said. "You needed me. Isn't that enough?"

Loki tried to appear unmoved, but even that faded when Steve touched his wrists. It only took a gentle tug to bring Loki to his knees. He let Steve draw him in, his arms circling Steve's waist, his head resting against Steve's stomach. He relaxed with a long, shuddering sigh, and Steve wrapped him up.

"You're tired, aren't you?" He kneaded his fingers tenderly against the base of Loki's skull. "You've been tired for a long time." When Loki's shoulders hitched he soothed them with a slow massage. "I've got you," he murmured, combing Loki's long hair back. "I've got you."

Loki shuddered in his arms. His hands twisted in the back of Steve's shirt and he pulled, as if trying to sink more deeply into him. For several minutes he tensed and almost writhed as if in pain, but Steve offered no more words of reassurance or accusation; he only waited until Loki's emotion had run its course and he rested, breathing shallowly but steadily against his stomach. He told himself it was mercy, not pity, that guided him. He embraced Loki as delicately as if he were a wounded animal and imagined that he was not far off.

"Will you answer a question of mine, now?" Steve asked when it seemed that Loki had calmed.

Loki burrowed into him. "Yes."

"Honestly?"

"...Perhaps."

Steve sighed; it would have to do. "When you agreed to let me come here," he said quietly, "did you think I would leave S.H.I.E.L.D. and join you?"

Loki's fingers slipped beneath Steve's shirt, scratching idle designs into his skin. "No. Not any more than you thought you could convince me."

"Then why let me come?" Steve eased him back. "I know you didn't want me to see you like this. You could have just refused to let me in."

Loki met his eyes. Without a word he hooked his hands over Steve's shoulders and pulled himself up for a kiss. It wasn't any kind of answer, but Steve accepted it anyway. Loki's mouth was warm and seeking, prickling with residual traces of the Tesseract's shimmering energy. It made Steve's tongue tingle.

Loki leaned in, but unlike before he didn't try to detain Steve. Even when he gripped the back of Steve's neck it wasn't with enough force to prevent him from pulling away if he had tried to. Steve didn't fight. When Loki stood, Steve took his waist and strained to continue meeting his lips. There was something agonizing and yet liberating in the knowledge that there was nothing he could do for Loki, no way to change his mind. Whether he gave in or not, it would not change the fate they were racing toward.

Steve tipped his head back; Loki's palms again pressed to his throat put the stars back under his skin. "I can still feel the cube," he murmured, his eyelids fluttering. "You're saturated with it."

Loki drew his thumbs slowly down the line of Steve's tendons as if coaxing the energy through him. "Is it too much?"

"No." Steve took a deep breath to let the glow into his lungs. It filtered all through him, down to the tips of his fingers and toes. "It's beautiful," he admitted breathlessly. "In small doses."

Loki kissed him again. Steve let himself go a little more, and when Loki pressed against his shoulders, he scooted back on the bed. Loki followed. Between each long kiss they repositioned themselves on the mattress, so that when Steve dropped onto his back his head hit the pillow.

"I was right," said Loki, crawling on top of him. "You _are_ weak."

"So are you," Steve retorted against his lips.

Steve closed his eyes through another long, passionate kiss. Loki's fervor was growing and he rose to meet it, depending on arousal more than experience to guide him. His pulse was thundering into his hips, but when Loki rolled into them, it wasn't soft, welcoming lips that rubbed against him. Loki's hardening erection pressed into his, and when the sensation shot unexpected pleasure through Steve's already thrumming veins he choked on a gasp.

"Wait." Steve gripped Loki's thighs and still managed to be startled by his masculine physique. "Wait."

"Why?" Loki slipped his hands under Steve's shirt and ran then up and down his stomach and chest. "You've already had me several times over."

Steve couldn't help but melt beneath Loki's strong massage. When the heels of Loki's palms kneaded into the taut muscles below Steve's navel it sent his blood pumping and he arched involuntarily into them. But then Loki leaned over him, and the press of his pregnant belly made Steve uneasy all over again.

"Wait," he repeated. "I don't know if I can do this."

To his surprise, Loki relented. He sat up and contemplated the man between his thighs. "Is this better?"

He passed his hands over his face, melting his sharp-featured countenance into Lori's soft cheekbones and full lips. His body followed suit. Steve watched in wary fascination as Loki's edges were replaced with curves, until it he was fully female and just as Steve remembered.

Steve couldn't reply, so Loki dipped in for another kiss. His lips were sweet and his breasts pressing into Steve's chest even more so. Fresh excitement pooled in Steve's groin and he kissed Loki back, savoring the familiarity. When Loki rolled into his hips he saw stars. Steve's hands dove into his robes and thrilled with the beauty beneath them, Lori in every way. 

"If I was only this," said Loki in a flowing, feminine voice, "if there was only Lori the human woman, and I came to you with this child, what would you have done?"

Steve touched Loki's belly. He thought of the life he'd been raised to believe would be his, coming home to a white picket fence, family dinners and Sunday best. "I would have done the right thing," he said, cupping Loki's full breasts. "Married you."

"Then why hesitate now?" Loki arched his back. "Take me."

Steve squeezed, and as captivated as he was by tender nipples growing hard against his palms, Loki's whimper broke the illusion. 

"Wait," Steve said yet again. "No, not like this."

Loki heaved a sigh of irritation. "Coward."

He started to climb off, but Steve's hands acted without him, keeping Loki firmly in place. "If we're going to do this, I want it to be you," he blurted out. "Just you."

Loki gradually settled once more. He watched Steve with mistrust, and then finally put his hands to his face again. He smoothed away Lori's womanly curves, replacing them not with his former appearance, but with rough, blue skin and pale scars. An otherworldly sheen overtook him from head to toe. Steve wanted to look away but couldn't as Loki tossed his robe aside, leaving him fully exposed. His scarlet eyes gleamed from under long lashes.

"Like this?" he asked.

Steve gulped. He touched Loki's wrists, fingering the subtle rise of tissue that formed strange markings all over Loki's new skin. Loki had always been cool to the touch but it was even truer then. Steve licked his lips, wanting to ask a hundred questions, but Loki was watching him with such intense and tremulous scrutiny that he held back. He was afraid of what Loki might do if he refused him again. "Yes," he said. He steeled his nerves and tugged Loki down to him. "Yes, just like this."

It was undeniably bizarre, kissing the true form of a god. Steve's hands shook as they slid up Loki's arms to his back. Loki was cold and burning at once, pure energy seeping out through his pores and tapping into Steve's basest instincts. When he imagined the grotesque spectacle he must have made, quivering beneath an alien beast in his enemy's lair, shame choked his already shallow breaths. So much for the strength and pride of the newly-formed Avengers.

Then Loki's hair fanned out around him, and it all ceased to matter so much. The silky, dark curtains closed them in and blocked out even the glow from the half dozen medical monitors. They were alone, cut adrift, and as Steve pulled Loki tighter he had to admit that he was tired, too. He was tired of the future racing so far ahead of him when all he wanted was to turn back time. He had grown weary of "Yes, sir," and untouchable wars fought on television screens, and sympathetic looks from every face he passed. He wanted something that belonged to him, and to belong to something in return. For the first time in his memory, he wanted to be weak.

Loki pressed his hand flat against Steve's chest. Electricity sparked beneath his palm, and all at once Steve's clothing came apart at the seams. The fabric and even metal shredded into tiny strips that fled off his skin like scurrying insects. Their tiny thread-feet raised hairs all over Steve's body, but by the time he could react they were gone, falling into piles on the floor.

Steve laughed nervously, but not for long; when Loki stretched out over him again the sensation of so much skin rubbing against him his stole his breath. No more barriers separated them. Loki's bare cock pressed against his and he moaned, guiltily enraptured. It only took a tiny pump of Loki's hips as motivation; Steve hissed as he kissed Loki with all his passion, trying to feel every part of him.

Loki pulled away. He was all out of teasing as he slid down Steve's body and pushed his knees apart. Steve jumped, unaccustomed to the sensation of being laid open. Strong hands spread his thighs and left him vulnerable. At first he propped himself up, wanting to watch, but the sight of Loki's blue lips parting over the head of his cock threatened to unravel his courage again. He dropped onto his back again and was content to simmer beneath the slow, sucking attentions of Loki's wide mouth. When Loki took him in to the hilt and swallowed, his eyes rolled back, and he focused on tangling his fingers in Loki's long hair to keep from coming on the spot.

Steve was so distracted by Loki's liquid-like tongue that he almost didn't notice when long fingers splayed over his abdomen. They moved over his belly, hips, and thighs in a circling massage that drained any remaining tension out of Steve's weary body. He sighed, light-headed, as his muscles relaxed beneath Loki's prodding. He didn't think it was possible to be so calm with so much pleasure being lavished on him, and it wasn't until he felt the tell-tale tingle of ancient magic that he realized Loki was up to something.

"Loki," he breathed.

Loki diverted one hand between them, and Steve bucked when cool fingers ghosted over his scrotum. He wanted more, but Loki continued lower, teasing Steve's most delicate skin down to his hole. One crooked knuckle nudging against his clenched muscles alerted Steve at last to what Loki intended.

Steve's breath came faster. Sweat salted his lips and he arched off the mattress, frightened by the sparks of eager interest his body showed with every gentle push of Loki's fingers. It had taken a great deal of courage to even come to meet Loki; the thought of submitting fully, as a man surrendering to the _male mother_ of his unborn child, was nearly incomprehensible. He wanted to believe his willingness was a trick of the Tesseract still alive in his system, but he couldn't while remaining honest with himself. It felt good. Loki's gentle magic flowed through his abdomen and hips like a caress under his skin, easing and loosening. His blood pumped into all his most tender, underappreciated crevices, none so fiercely as his throbbing erection, and he arched again against Loki's mouth. 

Loki gave him one last, mind-erasing rub of his tongue and then leaned back. He uttered something that sounded like another language and then eased one finger into his partner. Steve moaned and spread his knees wider. He was shaking, as thrilled as he was ashamed by the way his body stretched eagerly to accommodate. Loki spoke again, and when he added a second finger it was inexplicably slick. Warm moisture soothed all along Steve's insides, and he squirmed on the mattress as he tried to get used to the sensation.

Loki kissed his stomach. He kissed his chest, kissed his way back up to Steve's lips without removing his fingers. When he thrust them deeper, Steve's hiss was swallowed by Loki's eager mouth. In and out he worked, in and then out, easing away the tension until Steve was panting and writhing beneath him.

"Tell me to do it," Loki whispered. He removed his fingers and aligned their hips. His cock rubbed up against Steve's opening, and Steve began to sweat all over again. "Say you want me."

Steve forced his eyes open. It was almost terrifying, seeing the deformed face looming over him, eyes glowing like a demon. His stomach danced and his skin tingled everywhere they touched, overly sensitive to the raw power seeping out of Loki. But Loki had been right--he would have been willing to marry Lori, in different circumstances. He had given himself up freely to her. Loki was still that person and it shouldn't matter what form he took. 

"Yes," Steve gasped. He swallowed and stretched. "I want you. God help me...."

Loki entered him with one deft thrust. Steve was unprepared for the intensity, and he had to clench his jaw tightly shut to stay quiet as too many conflicting sensations rippled through him. Loki's hand against his abdomen silenced the worst of them. The discomfort melted and there was only the fullness, the heart-stopping weakness of being claimed and possessed. Steve moaned when Loki withdrew, but the second pump came quickly, striking even deeper. It was almost too much. Steve drew his knees higher, aided by Loki's hand crooking under his thigh, but there was no escaping the unbearable pressure. 

"Shh," Loki soothed. With one hand supporting Steve's leg and the other still rubbing his abdomen, he fell into a brisk, penetrating rhythm. "I've got you."

Steve's head tipped back--he was afraid to watch. With every sound thrust he unwound a little more, until the last of his misgivings surrendered and he allowed himself to savor the pleasure of Loki's body moving inside his. His breath came in shallow gulps and his blood rushed the euphoria into every blazing capillary. It wasn't like making love to a woman. His brain wouldn't let him forget that he was relinquishing all control; but even that was its own exhilaration. He clutched at the bed and shuddered beneath Loki's strength. It was a thrilling, frightening brand of freedom he could compare to nothing else.

Loki leaned forward and sped up. His long hair slipped from his shoulders and tickled the muscles heaving across Steve's chest and stomach like Tesla currents. Steve whimpered, but it was Loki's stomach pressing up against the underside of his cock that left him breathless. Disturbing as it was, there was no helping the surge of pleasure that came from the heart of Loki's hoarded magic caressing his most sensitive organs with every roll of their hips. Senseless and desperate, Steve tried to draw them even more tightly together. Loki obliged, and soon they were clutching at each other, only able to move in swift jerks as they groaned into each other's mouths and teetered on the edge.

Loki's climax dove into him; Steve felt it as clearly as if it was his own, sweeping all through him in pulses of white-hot energy and sending him over the edge. He pawed at Loki, shaking, his breath choking around half-formed groans of ecstasy and release. His skin felt clammy in the aftermath and he couldn't determine where he ended and Loki began. They kissed. He felt a swell of magic but it was too much--too much power already filling him to overflowing, and the last thing he remembered before falling blissfully unconscious was Loki whispering something against his mouth. He couldn't make out the words.

***

Loki woke up, again, to the steady pulse of human science. He hated it. Each electronic siren made him think of a clock slowly ticking down. There wasn't much time. There was never enough time but all he could do was race forward into the inevitable.

A hand drifted across his stomach, and with a sigh Loki opened his eyes. He was propped up against the headboard, pillows stuffed under his back. Steve was still next to him, naked, leaning against Loki's hip as he traced the Jotun shapes in his pregnant belly. There was a look of awe in his faraway eyes. Even in the artificial lighting, even weary with his hair sweat-slick against his forehead, he was beautiful.

When Steve noticed that Loki was awake and watching him, he blushed. "Are these scars?" he asked quietly, following one with his thumb.

Loki stared from beneath heavy eyelids. "No. They're birthmarks."

Steve continued to stroke Loki's belly. "Do all Asgardians look like this, in their true form?"

Loki's throat constricted, but he managed to swallow it away quickly enough to answer. "No."

Steve glanced to him, curious, but the expression on Loki's face must have prevented him from asking further. He changed the subject. "You used magic on me this time, didn't you?"

"Just to make it easier on you." Loki splayed his fingers over Steve's knee and was amused when Steve's eyes snapped immediately to them, as if still unused to intimacy. "And to tidy you up, afterwards. You're welcome."

Steve blushed darker. "The magic of a god, and you use it for things like that."

"I can think of less worthy applications," said Loki.

He had only meant it in jest, but Steve grew quiet and serious as he looked back to Loki's face. Reality was settling in again. His hand slid to one side of Loki's stomach, where the scientists had marked where Loki was to insert the umbilical needle for every session with the reactor. "Like this?" Steve asked grimly.

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes away. "I thought we'd finished discussing this."

"Tell me you really think this is the best you can do for this child," said Steve. "My child."

"I already have."

"Look at me," Steve insisted. "And tell me again. Make me believe that you mean it."

Loki met his gaze. The words were on his tongue, but when he tried to speak them he came up wanting. Something in the way Steve was watching him, his hand still perched possessively on Loki's abdomen, made him doubt. He felt the child squirm inside him. It hungered for the Tesseract's energy, he was certain, but he couldn't find his voice to say as much.

Steve waited patiently and did not seem surprised when no answer followed. "Loki," he said. "What happened to you?"

Loki felt an uncharacteristic pang of fear and tried to hide it. "What do you mean?"

Steve leaned closer. "Why can't you go home?"

Loki stared straight back, only a twitch in his face indicating the firestorm brought to life in his chest. Bitterness soured his throat and anger drew in his fingers. It wasn't all that long ago but the memory had already smeared across the back of his mind, all pain and grief and denial. One instant stood above the rest and it was that which made it out of him first.

"My father cast me out," said Loki.

Steve's eyes narrowed. Loki could see him, predictably, battling internally over the declaration and what it meant. Just when Loki had hoped for misguided sympathy, Steve persisted. "Why?"

It should have been easy to lie, but with Steve watching him so intently, his body so close and still so warm from their lovemaking, it was Loki who felt compelled as if by a spell. Without emotion or inflection he surrendered the truth. "I tried to murder my brother."

Steve remained very still, but there was no mistaking the firestorm in him, too. Loki knew very well what he had done. The truth was poison; it was in Steve, burning at whatever affection he still held for his untrustworthy lover. Loki could see it running it course, and he tasted bile.

"Why?" Steve asked again, more quietly than a moment ago.

"You lost a brother once," Loki murmured. He heard rather than felt his pulse rising. "It must be unfathomable to you that one brother would kill another. There's no reason I can give you that would let you forgive me."

"Just tell me," Steve snapped, his hand catching Loki's. It was shaking just slightly. "Why?"

"Because..."

Again, Loki struggled over the words. It was not for a lack of them. His grievances were innumerable and a handful of them required no lie or exaggeration. He could have cited peace with the enemy, or divine punishment for treason committed, or judgment served in the name of his father. Harder to admit but truer still were anger, and jealousy, and avarice. Steve would easily believe, as Thor had, that his motivations were villainous and mad. He was every bit the greedy coward that Steve had accused him of being no more than an hour ago. None of those reasons made it to his lips.

"Because killing him was easier than telling him the truth," said Loki.

"The truth about what?"

"Anything." Tension threaded beneath Loki's ribs and he laughed, weak and manic. "Everything."

Steve didn't reply. His face was drained with disappointment, and it was so cliché that Loki had to close his eyes. "Yes," he murmured. "I am that petty. Does it surprise you?" Still Steve wouldn't speak, so he continued. "If you came here to help me, now would be a good time," he suggested. "Will you lie and say you forgive me? Maybe that would win me over."

Steve was silent a moment longer and then settled alongside Loki. He draped his arm over Loki's chest and pulled him closer. His embrace was firm, and when Loki found himself pressed to Steve's chest he shivered. He hadn't expected that Steve would comply and his pulse quickened further.

"No," said Steve. He rested his lips against Loki's temple and closed his eyes. "No, Loki. I don't forgive you. But you can ask Thor, when we get him here."

Loki shook in Steve's arms. Steve remained still, but his every breath stirring dark hair made Loki burn. He imagined Thor in Midgard in a hundred different scenarios and felt ill with every one; Thor's forgiveness, Thor's condemnation; his mercy or his vengeance; his dull-witted, innocent confusion or his soldier's desperation--each one was worse than the last. Whether he came with arms open or wielding Mjolnir Loki had no idea how he would react. He had been telling the truth. He would rather shatter the Yggdrasil a thousand times and render Asgard to ashes than to be face to face with Thor, with no options left but to explain himself.

Loki pushed against Steve's chest, but Steve was unrelenting. He held Loki as he fought, said nothing when his breath heaved and choked. Loki's strength didn't last long. He sagged against Steve as bitter emotion washed over him. Steve was right: it was unforgivable. Fear and shame had driven him to turn his hatred on the one being of Asgard that loved him. Next they met Thor would hate him, not only for his unpardonable actions but for the beast he was, a Tesseract-fueled monstrosity, a weakling coward. The thought was unbearable. Raw panic set his heart to pounding, and he cried, sobbing painfully into Steve's shoulder.

Steve adjusted his arms so he could welcome Loki closer. Loki buried into him. He was exhausted and afraid--of his brother drawing ever nearer, of the child inside him, and of his body wearing thin around it. He couldn't stop the momentum, and the only one who might have been able to help was his enemy by his own doing. Every mistake was his, and he was out of tricks and recompense to be pardoned by. He could only weep helplessly while Steve stroked his hair and back.

"Loki," Steve said softly after nearly ten minutes. "How long have you known the baby is a girl?"

Loki panted, still achingly emotional, but he managed to at last rein himself in. "A few days," he replied hoarsely.

"Have you thought of a name?"

Loki swallowed. He was grateful to change the subject. "Dagny," he said. "I want to name her Dagny."

"Dagny," Steve repeated. He pressed his lips to Loki's forehead. "You'll have to spell that for me."

Loki kept his eyes squeezed tight. As Steve kissed his brow his own lips formed silent apologies meant for no one.

***

Once Loki wove his clothing back into proper order, Steve got dressed. He thought he should have felt sore or altered in some way, but magic had taken care of that, leaving him mystified by the entire encounter. He had come for answers and received them, but he was left with more conflict than ever. As he leaned down to kiss Loki he prayed for some manner of inspiration to strike him, but his mind was empty and his stomach hollow. Still he tried to convey through his mouth alone how much he wished things had been different, for both of them.

"I've already told Justin it's time for you to leave," said Loki. "He'll see that you're shown out."

Steve wondered if that again meant bound and blindfolded, but thought better of asking. He drew a blanket over Loki and let his hand rest on his belly. He could have sworn he felt a kick. "Loki," he said seriously, "I want you to think hard on how you want this to end. This future you want, where you and I rule the world as kings, isn't going to happen. Either you and HYDRA surrender to S.H.I.E.L.D., or I fight until you do." He took in a deep breath. "Or until I die. Those are the only options."

Loki stared back. His emotion had calmed, but Steve could still see the vulnerability hiding under his mask of indifference. "I will think about it," he said.

Steve kissed him one more time. He wanted to tell Loki to leave with him right then, but he knew Loki wouldn't agree. "Call me," he said as he leaned back. "I want to know how you're doing--I mean it. And I want to be here when she's born. Promise me you'll have someone come for me, when it's time."

Loki settled into the mattress with a long sigh. "Very well." He closed his eyes. "Take care of yourself."

"And you." Steve gave Loki's belly a gentle rub with his thumb and finally left the room.

Loki's throne chamber felt even more disturbing and empty without Loki in it. Steve walked around the reactor, watching it glow ominously amidst the computers and wires. His attention was drawn most strongly to the long tube that fed into Loki's body and the grotesque needle at its end. He moved closer, morbidly fascinated as he tried to imagine what it must have been like to have something so lethal yet so powerful stabbing into him.

"I wouldn't touch that," said a woman.

Steve turned, and was startled to find one of HYDRA's scientists moving toward him from a far corner of the chamber. She was tall, a white lab coat over her blouse and trousers. Her red hair had been pulled back in a tight bun, and her skin stretching over her face made her look vaguely familiar.

Steve turned away from the equipment. "I wasn't going to. I know what it's capable of." On instinct, he offered his hand. "Steve Rogers."

"Synthia Scarbo," she introduced in turn, shaking his hand. "I'm the researcher in charge of most of this equipment."

Steve eyed the reactor. "It's really something," he said. "It looks like it powers the whole facility."

She smiled shyly. "Captain Rogers, I know who you are. I'm not about to tell you anything I don't want to."

"I wasn't asking you to." Steve took a step back. "In fact, I'm on my way out."

"I'll walk with you." She plucked her key card off her lapel and moved with Steve toward the door. "But before we run into Hammer, I wanted to ask you something."

Steve felt a flash of unease and glanced briefly to the door to Loki's bedroom. "Yes?"

"You really are Captain America, aren't you?" They reached the door, but Synthia kept her key out of range as she watched Steve closely. "You're not his namesake, or his grandson. You're the real Captain America from the war."

Steve frowned. He knew the dangers of admitting as such in the middle of a HYDRA facility, but he said, "Yes. I am." His eyes narrowed. "How is your serum coming along?"

Synthia smiled again and let them out of the chamber. "Good bye, Captain Rogers."

Steve stepped into the hall and nearly into Hammer. He turned back, suspicious and hoping to get another word or two out of the strange woman, but the chamber door was already grinding shut behind her. "Who was that?" he asked of Hammer.

"Who, Synthia?" Hammer shrugged. "Just one of Johanna's scientists. She's worked pretty closely with Lord Loki on getting the Tesseract to sync with the facility. You ready to go?" 

Though Steve still had his misgivings, he followed Hammer back down the corridor. "Soooo," Hammer drawled as they went. "How did it go? You didn't really talk him down, did you?"

"No," said Steve. It made his blood boil to hear Hammer talk about it so casually when his memory of Loki sobbing into his chest was fresh. "But there's still time. He promised to bring me back when the baby is born."

"Shouldn't be much longer, now." Hammer nodded to himself. "It'll sure be something, seeing what happens."

"Hammer." Once they'd entered the elevator Steve turned on him. "You don't understand. There's a lot that Loki isn't telling you. He's not well. If you feed into this world domination nonsense of his it's only going to hurt him more."

Hammer reached into his jacket and pulled out the black sack that Steve had worn earlier. "Sorry, big guy, but you're gonna have to wear this charming accessory on your way out. Schmidt's orders. But we can skip the handcuffs this time, I think."

Steve took him by the elbow and drew him closer. "As soon as he has what he wants, he's going to kill all of HYDRA," he whispered. "He told me himself."

"Good thing I'm not HYDRA then, huh?" Hammer peeled the fingers off him. "Listen Cap, I appreciate the concern, I really do. But you just can't stand in the way of progress, understand? If it wasn't us, it'd be someone else. Now, come on, be a sport." He held up the sack.

Steve sighed, but as the elevator slowed he pulled the sack over his head. "When I come back, I'm taking him with me," he promised.

The doors opened, and a pair of soldiers wrestled him out. He didn't fight. He counted the steps again as they dragged him out of the facility and onto uneven gravel. A truck was waiting, and once Steve was pushed inside he felt a cool presence settle next to him.

"Good night, Steven," said Loki, and the world went black.

***

Steve woke up on a park bench, three miles away from his motel. His sack was off, instead tied to his wrist with his wallet and cell phone inside. Evening sun blared down on him, and as he stretched his legs and shoulders, he dialed Stark.

"It's about time," Tony complained. "I've been trying to reach you. Are you all right?"

"Yeah." Steve rubbed his abdomen; he could still feel imprints of Loki all through him. "I'm all right, but I need a ride. And something to eat. I'll fill you in on the way back to base."

"All right--your phone's finally showing up on the grid. I'll be there soon."

"Thanks, Stark." Steve hung up and sighed. It was too much to ask that he have his thoughts in order by the time Tony arrived, so instead he turned his gaze upward, where a single star--maybe a planet--was twinkling above. "Dagny Rogers," he murmured, and his chest tightened.


	13. Chapter 13

They gathered in the lab at the stern of the carrier, which had previously been a cargo bay. Its hatches were open, exposing the interior to hazy morning sunlight. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue, and all around the lab the humming equipment imbued S.H.I.E.L.D.'s members with hopeful expectation.

Steve stood at the back. As much as he wanted to cheer for his friends and their success he couldn't help his anxiety. Just over a week had passed since his visit with Loki and he hadn't heard anything, not that he really expected to. Only Tony and Jane knew the bare details of what he'd seen and learned there. He was still working on how to tell Fury and Coulson. He would never let them walk into a fight with HYDRA unprepared, but he knew Fury's trust of him was already thin, and he couldn't predict what the man might do with his advice. 

Asgardians were another matter entirely. If everything went as planned, and Jane was able to open a bridge to heaven, it meant possibly Thor himself descending. He would have to explain to the god of thunder that he'd impregnated his brother, who was holed up somewhere killing himself with the power of infinity. He was starting to understand Loki's predilection for skirting the truth, as much as it made him ill in the process.

"We're ready," Jane announced, skipping from one display to the next. Her enthusiasm was unrelenting as she began twisting dials. Lights flickered on and the hum from the machinery rose to a whine. "How does it look, Mr. Stark?"

"Energy levels are good," Tony reported from the opposite end of the room. "The vibranium is...holding steady. We're ready."

"Then proceed," Fury grunted impatiently. "I want to see some fireworks."

Jane was beaming so brightly she looked on the edge of saluting him. "Yes, sir!" She positioned herself in front of the final control panel. "But you might want to back up." Everyone did so, and she flipped the switch.

The four pillars that made up the bridging device hummed to full life. White-hot energy danced up and down the wires surrounding them, and Steve winced back, reminded eerily of Loki's underground reactor. He had to shield his eyes as the glare increased. The machine vibrated and shrieked until the light formed into a pillar, striking upward into the cloudless sky. Everyone lurched back. After a full ten seconds the white fluctuated into a rainbow of dancing colors, and then from within, a smear of red and black. Something shot through the swirling column and landed in the center of the device with an impact that crushed metal and sent reverberations deep into the carrier's hull.

Jane pounded on the kill button, and all at once the light vanished. The machine wound down with low murmurs and left only a figure at the center of the pillars, draped in brilliant red fabric. As one end of the device opened Jane gave an excited shout and rushed forward, and the man rose to his feet to meet her.

Steve held his breath. Seeing Thor for the first time injected in him sudden and heart-pounding understanding. Thor was tall, broad-shouldered, thickly-built. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, and dressed in immaculate armor, he fit every image of what Steve assumed a god of the cosmos to be. When Thor offered his hand to Jane and received an enthusiastic pounce instead, his wide grin and deep laughter impressed on all of them his handsomeness and charm. He was divine, blatantly so, and he carried himself with all the proud grace of a lion as he and Jane stepped down from the machine.

And he was Loki's brother. Steve recalled every fleeting anecdote that Loki had shared concerning Thor, every flash of bitterness and envy. He recalled Loki sobbing in regret at the prospect of facing his brother and confessing his guilt. It made so much more sense, seeing the man that had inspired Loki to his crimes, so much so that Steve had to lean back against the wall as he took it all in.

"Everyone," Jane announced proudly, "this is Thor."

Thor wrapped his arm around Jane's shoulders and kept her close while he shook hands all around. "Erik Selvig," he greeted mightily, "how good to see you well! And you, Coulson. I see you've kept your word to Jane--very good."

Coulson smiled as he shook Thor's hand. "You still owe me a debriefing."

"Yes, there is much to tell." Thor's good humor faltered. "Heimdall has related much of what's happened here in Midgard by the hands of my brother Loki, but I want to hear it all myself."

"You will," said Fury. "The conference room is ready for us."

As Fury led the way out, Thor spotted Steve and paused. Recognition lit his eyes as he headed purposefully over. Steve pushed away from the wall and tried not to let uneasiness show in his face as he offered his hand. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time," said Steve. "It's good to finally meet you, sir."

"Likewise, Steve Rogers," replied Thor, shaking his hand.

"You know me?" It occurred to him a moment later what Thor might have meant. "You were there, too, weren't you? During the war?"

"Indeed I was. But there will be time for that." Thor clapped him on the shoulder and followed Fury out. "We have much to discuss."

In the conference room, Fury played back the recording of Loki's assault on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mainland base. Thor watched silently, his brow wrinkled with strain. When it was over, he sighed.

"I am sorry," he said, and to Steve's ear it sounded like he meant it. "If I had properly dealt with my brother in Asgard, you would not have had to endure this."

"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Jane, squeezing his hand. "What he's after?"

Thor took a moment to rally himself. "When last I visited this realm, it was not by choice," he explained carefully. "It was punishment handed down by my father, for...far too many wrongs." When he noticed Clint and Natasha making faces, he added, "No offense meant."

"None taken," said Clint, thumbing his nose.

"In my absence, my father fell ill," Thor continued. "Incapacitated by the Odinsleep. My brother was to rule as king in the interim, but he took advantage of the situation to try and claim total control of Asgard." He swallowed. "He lied to me, and sent one of Asgard's weapons to kill me, and my friends."

Coulson smiled grimly. "We met it," he said.

"My brother has always been a master of tricks," said Thor with sudden animation. "And sometimes outright falsehoods, but he was never a murderer. I know it is some great madness that grips him, to cause him to do these things. Once I returned to Asgard I learned that he was attempting to defeat Asgard's enemies using the Bifrost--he very nearly destroyed an entire realm and its peoples. I stopped him, but in my efforts...he was lost."

Thor sagged in his chair. "He cast himself into the void," he said quietly. "I tried to save him, but he fell from the Bifrost, and all of Asgard thought him dead. It was not until Heimdall witnessed him claiming the Tesseract that any of us knew to search for him." He shook his head. "I cannot imagine how he survived."

The room was quiet for several moments out of respect for Thor's grief. Steve couldn't look at him. He kept his gazed fixed on the table, trying to reconcile Thor's telling with the bare details he had received from Loki. It made his head hurt. "Don't you have some idea why?" he asked, more harshly than he'd intended. "He's your brother. Brothers don't just wake up one morning and try to murder each other."

If Thor took offense, he didn't show it. His expression was one of only regret. "He is not my brother," he said. "Not by blood, though we were raised to believe that we were. My Father, Lord Odin, explained to me in the aftermath that Loki is not Asgardian. He is Jotun--a Frost Giant of Jotunheim, enemies of Asgard. As an infant he was abandoned by his true father, King Laufey, but rescued by wise Odin, and raised as one of Asgard's own."

"So, he was adopted?" Fury surmised.

"Yes."

Jane added her other hand to the one already covering Thor's. "But he didn't know, did he? You think that's why he...?"

"He learned the truth while I was here in Midgard," said Thor. "Father says...it broke him." He shook his head in frustration. "If only I had been there."

Steve clenched his fists under the table, trying to banish from them the sensation of cool, blue skin rising beneath his fingertips. He wished he could fly as easily as the Iron Man and swoop down on Loki in his fortress. He wanted to demand from him the full truth and hold him again, to accept all his bitterness and confusion, but he had no idea where to go.

"If you saw what happened at our base, why didn't you come sooner?" asked Natasha. 

"I could not; the Bifrost was destroyed. My father commissioned the dwarves for a replacement, but thanks to Loki, all the realms have seen the capability it has for destruction, and they have been pressuring the king of the dwarves not to comply." Thor turned to Jane. "I wanted to come, but I could not leave to find other means, when Asgard still stands on the brink of war. Please, forgive me."

"You don't have to apologize," Jane said quickly. "I know you would have come, if you could." She grinned. "Which is why I had to get you myself."

"I always knew you were the cleverest of your kind," Thor replied.

Fury cleared his throat to draw their attention back and asked Thor to go through what he knew about Loki's powers and abilities. Steve only half listened as the conversation continued around him. He couldn't stop thinking about Loki the last time he had seen him, settled uncomfortably in a bed surrounded by crude science, his blue skin standing out amidst white sheets. The room was suddenly stifling, and when they were finally dismissed for a meal, Steve immediately sought fresh air on the bow of the carrier.

The rolling waves helped. Steve took in deep breaths and watched the water crest and spray. He was tempted to reach for his phone, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get through a conversation with Loki without revealing that Thor had come to them, and was starting to understand what it might do to Loki to know. After ten minutes or so of silent contemplation, he was interrupted by the approach of Thor and Jane.

"Steve Rogers," said Thor. "I would have words with you."

Steve took in one more deep breath and turned to face him. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

"I must begin with an apology," said Thor. "I was there, when you and your ship crashed into the ice many years ago. Had I known that you still lived, I would have attempted to help."

Steve frowned, his skin prickling with goose bumps with the reminder. "You knew that Loki helped to create Dr. Erskine's serum?"

"I did." Thor shifted uncomfortably. "Though it may distress you, I think it important that you know, I believe what he did to be an act of spite against me. It was after he learned that traces of _my_ blood had gone into the creation of the first potion that he volunteered his own, so Heimdall tells me."

" _Your_ blood?" Steve stood straighter with the realization. "It was _your_ blood that created the serum Schmidt used?"

Thor nodded. "I am afraid so. The Red Skull beast was my doing, though inadvertently. It was part of a game my brother and I used to play at often," he continued when Steve wasn't able to reply. "He could never best me in sport, not directly, so there were times we selected proxies to fight in our stead. Such was the case with you."

Steve looked again out over the ocean. He didn't know what to make of Thor's new information. His stomach knotted and he gave it a rub to try and dispel it. "There's something you should know, too," he said. "Something I haven't told the others."

Jane, who had only listened patiently until then, stepped closer. "Steve..."

"When Loki came here and found out I was alive, he came to find me," Steve said. He forced each word out with determination--if he hesitated for even a moment, the loss of momentum might prevent him from finishing. "But he came in disguise. He turned himself into a woman."

Thor grimaced in sympathy. "It would not be the first time," he admitted. "It was a favorite trick of his when he first learned it, some centuries ago."

"He and I..." Steve braced himself. "Thor, Loki is still part female," he said. "He has been for almost three months now, and the reason he hasn't attacked S.H.I.E.L.D. again is because he's pregnant."

Thor lurched back as if struck, but his shock was soon displaced by distrust and anger. "What?"

"He's pregnant with a little girl," Steve said, his pulse hammering in his ears. "She's growing much faster than she should be, because he has the Tesseract with him." When Thor took a menacing step forward he added, "And yes, she's mine. Loki and I--"

Thor snatched him by the front of his shirt. "You!" he bellowed. "You defiled--" He stopped himself and lowered his voice to a growl. "You _impregnated_ my brother?"

Steve didn't try to fight. "I didn't know who he was at the time," he said, but it was a pale excuse even to him. "I didn't mean--"

Thor shook his head, and with a scowl of disgust he cast Steve onto the deck. "But Loki is--he is my _brother_!" he cried, flushed and furious. "And you take advantage of him? He is unwell, and you--"

"Thor, wait," said Jane, putting herself between them. "Stop, please. You don't understand."

"Loki is mad with grief," Thor continued to rant. "He knows not what he's doing. Where is he?" He turned on Steve again, who was just beginning to push to his feet. "Do you know where he is? I demand you take me there so I can confirm this as jest!"

Steve rubbed his scraped elbow as he stood upright. "I don't know where he is," he said. "But I did see him recently."

"Take me to him!" Thor demanded, grabbing Steve again with both hands. "I won't believe it until I see it for myself!"

"Captain!" 

The three of them turned, and Thor released Steve and stepped back as Agent Coulson jogged over to them. He glanced between Thor and Steve warily. "Are you two all right?"

Thor scowled and turned away. "We're fine," said Steve. "What is it?"

"We need you in the command room," said Coulson. "Something else came through."

***

Loki drew his robes more tightly around him. He watched HYDRA's men and women bustle around the room, chattering anxiously amongst each other as they tried to follow his orders. He was seething and shivering at once. The Tesseract pulsed behind him, its silvery voice a wail of warning in his ear. "I feel it," Loki murmured in response. A familiar presence tickled his senses. "I feel it, damn you." He lifted his voice to the soldiers. "Do you know where it is yet?"

"We were able to detect a large energy source off the Atlantic coastline," said Johanna. "It's similar to that of an arc reactor's signature, but it's already dissipated."

"No, no," Loki groaned. "That is _Thor_." He gagged on the name and shifted restlessly within deep folds of chafing cloth. "Thor has come to Midgard. But there is something else--I can feel it. Keep searching!"

Synthia placed a bottle of water within easy distance of his throne. "Please don't overexert yourself, sir," she said.

Loki snatched up the water and drank most of it down on one breath. "Search," he demanded again. "Find it."

Johanna shook her head. "Lord Loki, we don't have the kind of equipment necessary to scan the whole country. Whatever you're feeling isn't something we can track."

"There's something else," Loki insisted, his wires rattling as he pushed to the edge of his throne. "It's familiar. I must know where it is." When an option came to him he turned his face upward, and with groans and screeches the metal skylight began to open.

Everyone in the chamber stopped what they were doing to stare. "Lord Loki," Synthia said patiently. "What are you doing?"

"Justin." Loki held his hand out. "Give me your phone."

Hammer shrugged helplessly beneath Johanna's glare and tossed the phone to him. "Calling long distance again, huh?"

Loki collapsed back in his throne and dialed. "Quiet," he grunted. "All of you."

***

"We just got a call in from Edwards Air Force Base," Coulson explained as he led Steve, Thor, and Jane to the command room. "They detected an energy signal not long after Dr. Foster's successful test of the bridging device. Eye witnesses say they saw lightning from a cloudless sky just outside Boron, California. They've sent a helicopter to do a fly-by."

"Does it match the energy signal of our device?" Jane asked excitedly. "How can that be?" She looked to Thor. "Maybe the Bifrost is working after all."

"Impossible," said Thor. His face was still red and he refused to look at Steve. "I would have known."

They joined Fury, Tony, Clint, and Natasha already in the command room, all of them crowded around one of the monitors. "That's our energy signature, all right," Tony was saying. "Almost three thousand miles from where we activated our device. You got eyes on it yet?"

"Not yet," said someone through the speaker phone. Steve recognized the voice as belonging to Rhodes. "But we should, soon. Got any idea what we're dealing with?"

Jane hurried to join Tony at the monitors. "If Asgard didn't send someone else, where could it have come from?"

"It could be that our test sent out a ripple through..." Tony took a look around his audience and modified his language. "...you know, space time. Maybe we just shook something loose."

"There has been a great deal of travel between the realms lately," added Thor. "Yggdrasil's branches have been badly shaken. If something or someone was lost in the ether, your bridge may have created a path through which it was able to travel."

"Okay," said Rhodes, "we've got visual. I'm streaming it to you."

One of the monitors changed to show a view of open desert as viewed from a helicopter. Everyone leaned forward to squint at what appeared to be a broad crater with a dark spot at its center. Once the helicopter was directly overhead, the camera zoomed in. At its highest resolution the object still resembled no more than a box imbedded in the rock.

Thor abruptly gasped. "I need a closer look," he said urgently.

"Tell them to get in lower," related Tony. "But don't put down, and whatever you do, don't touch it."

"Affirmative."

The helicopter swooped in, and as everyone continued to peer at the changing pixels, Steve's phone rang. A glance at the number made Steve go pale, and he took several steps back to answer. "Hello?"

"Are you alone?"

"No." Steve eyed his peers. "But I know why you're calling."

"Tell me where it is," Loki rasped through the phone. "And I will be able to keep my word."

The view from the helicopter improved, and soon the camera was focusing on a spot of light within the dark object. "Yes--I see now," said Thor. "It is the Casket!"

Steve slapped his hand over the receiver, but it was too late. "The Casket," Loki repeated weakly.

"Awfully small," said Clint doubtfully.

"The Casket of Eternal Winters," Thor explained. "A powerful source of energy once owned by the Frost Giants. It fell into the void along with the Bifrost device--I had thought it lost." He turned on Fury. "We must retrieve it immediately."

Steve retreated another few steps. "Don't," he hissed into the phone. "Please."

"Where is it?" asked Loki.

"You know I won't tell you."

Coulson noticed how far Steve had strayed from the group, and as Fury discussed the best way to go about retrieving the item, he drew closer. "Captain?" he asked. "Who are you talking to?"

"You don't have to tell me," said Loki. "I know where to find it." His voice lowered. "Keep your men away, Steven, or I cannot guarantee their safety."

Steve waved for Coulson to hold on. "Don't," he said again. "You promised--you're really going to break your word over this?"

"I won't have to, if you keep your men away," said Loki, and he hung up.

By then everyone was watching, and Steve licked his lips as he returned the phone to his pocket. "That was Loki," he reported, and they started. "He's going after it."

"We cannot let him get his hands back on it," said Thor. "With the Tesseract he is already a mighty opponent--with the Casket he will be invincible."

Fury nodded. "We need a team out there ASAP." He turned to Tony. "You're up, Stark, if you think you're up to it."

"Always," Tony grunted, working his right hand. "You hear that, Rhodey? You've got incoming. I hope you still have my suit out at Edwards."

Rhodes scoffed. "You know I do, but Tony, I haven't been in that thing since--"

"Well, blow the dust off and suit up. I'm gonna need you on this one."

He started out of the room and Thor followed. "I will accompany you," Thor said. "Only I will be a match for him." He glared at Steve as he went.

"Scramble one of the combat jets," Fury added. "Agent Romanoff, you'll be on backup. Don't engage unless it looks like you need to; I want to see what an Asgardian god can really do."

Natasha nodded. "Yes, sir."

Steve swallowed as he watched her leave. "Director Fury, let me go with her," he said. "The more of us are there--"

"Not you, Rogers," Fury interrupted sternly. "You are grounded. In fact, give me your phone." He held out his hand. "You and your relationship with this thing have gotten on my last nerve."

Steve obediently handed over the phone. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just doing whatever I can to end this without people getting hurt."

"I know. That's the only reason why you're still on this team." Fury shoved the phone in his pocket and turned back toward the monitors. "Come sit with me. We can watch this go down together."

Steve did as asked, praying, _Please, Loki. Don't do this._

***

Loki tossed the phone back to Hammer. "Well?" Hammer asked as he checked the call history. "Did he tell you?"

"He did not have to." Loki situated himself as comfortably as possible and rested his folded hands on his belly. "Thor is on his way. His magic is easy to trace--I need only follow him."

"But then he'll reach whatever it is you're after before we know where to deploy our own men," said Johanna.

"Your soldiers would never beat him there regardless," replied Loki. "I will handle this myself." He closed his eyes. "Synthia. Increase the output from the reactor."

She shuffled. "I'm not certain that's wise, Lord Loki."

"Do not question me," he snapped. "Increase the output."

He heard her comply, and a moment later a fresh surge of brilliant light filtered all through him. His skin rippled with its intensity. "Yes," he murmured, smiling as the child kicked inside him. "Beautiful."

The Tesseract was all too happy to aid him. It bolstered him as he he projected his spirit outward and had little trouble latching onto Thor's blazing vibration. He shuddered and retreated deeper into his throne. With Thor on Midgard it would not be long before S.H.I.E.L.D. tired of their truce turned its attention back to him. It would not matter if he challenged Thor or even Steve himself over Jotunheim's lost treasure. Their war was an inevitable one, and he was more than willing to strike first if it meant claiming a valuable prize.

So he told himself. As he traced Thor's presence across the skies his pulse began to rise, knowing that he would have to reveal himself if he was to obtain the Casket. He ached to know how much Odin had told Thor, and how much of it Thor believed. A confrontation weeks of heartache in the making was nearly upon him, and he gasped, fearing it.

"Hey," Hammer said, closer than he had been a moment ago. "You okay?"

"Don't touch me," Loki warned.

"I know, I know." Hammer pulled a stool over, but remained out of range. "Just take it easy, all right?"

"I am...fine." Loki took in a deep breath and regained his composure, if only to keep his mortal peers at bay. "I am well."

As Thor soared across the country with Mjolnir's help, Loki became aware that he was not alone; he could sense the familiar energy of the Iron Man beside him. "Ah, your friend Tony Stark is here," Loki murmured. "He is as weak to me as ever. Shall I kill him for you this time, Justin?"

He peeked with one eye, and wasn't sure what to make of the tense, uneasy expression on Hammer's face. "Naw," Hammer said with faked ease. "Not when I can't see. What fun is that?"

Loki sagged. "Indeed."

It took hours, and Loki drifted in and out of consciousness as he trailed Thor and Tony into the west. He could feel when the wind grew dry over the desert, and then heard Tony's voice.

"There it is," said Tony. "And look who's there to greet us."

He and Thor soared to the desert floor, into the center of an immense crater where the Casket had rudely landed. A helicopter was perched at the crater's edge, and at the bottom a group of soldiers surrounded what looked to be a second, silver Iron Man. Loki stayed at the edges of Tony's mind, his hands clutching the armrests of his throne as he waited for his opportunity.

"Rhodey," Tony greeted as he landed. Rather than shake hands he offered Rhodes his fist, and got one in return. "I knew you couldn't stay out of it."

"You said we had incoming--like I wasn't going to come prepared." He turned toward Thor. "No suit on this one? But how did you..."

"There is no time," said Thor. He marched forward and reached for the Casket, poking out of the sand as if it weren't one of the most powerful objects in all the realms. His hand closed over one side.

Loki concentrated, and with a deep breath he materialized behind his brother in full armor, a spear in his grip. The soldiers saw right away but none were in range to stop him from thrusting the blade into the armor at Thor's back. Sparks flew in all directions, and Thor reeled, not injured but stunned out of the way. As soon as his hand released the Casket Loki pounced, tearing the artifact from the earth. Before anyone had the chance to stop him he rocketed into the air.

The Iron Men gave chase. Tony was faster but Rhodes' armor had the greater munitions, and a hail of gunfire shredded Loki's clone into a wisp of smoke. Loki grimaced, but a second phantom took its place, snatching up the falling Casket long before Tony could get to it. He spiraled off, twirling in an erratic flight path to keep the majority of Rhodes' bullets away from him.

"I can't get a lock-on," Rhodes complained.

"Because he's not really there _,"_ said Steve through their headsets. "It's just a projection _._ "

"Then at least we don't have to worry about taking him in alive," said Tony. "Come on, Rhodey, let's show him the sky is _our_ territory."

They surged forward, and though Loki rolled out of the way he wasn't fast enough to avoid Tony's reaching hands. Metal fingers dug into his ankles, and then Tony spun, jerking him in rough circles until the Casket was again wrenched from his grasp. As Rhodes caught it, Tony's repulsors made quick work of the second projection.

"Damn you!" Loki hissed. Though he was aware of the HYDRA soldiers moving and murmuring all round him the majority of his consciousness was still thousands of miles away. As before he let his mind sink into Tony's, and against great resistance he seized control of Tony's body. But once inside, the Iron Man suit made no sense to him, and with too many voices buzzing in his ear the best he could do was ram into Rhodes head on.

"Tony!" Rhodes shouted. He shoved at the hands grasping at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

He released the Casket. As soon as it was free Loki abandoned Tony and called upon three phantoms instead of one, each of them diving after the plummeting Casket. His hands closed over it, but before he could right himself he saw Thor streaking towards him. Loki twisted, but even when he aimed the Casket nothing happened--its magic refused to obey the almost-there orders of a projection. Loki had no time to think of another strategy; Thor collided with him, and in a flurry of grappling limbs they crashed into the earth below.

Thor jerked swiftly to his feet, Mjolnir in one hand and the Casket in the other. "Loki!" he shouted, scanning the rock and sand, but Loki's projection had already dissipated. "Come and face me!"

Loki shuddered. He was sweating, panting beneath his robes, but the projection he materialized to face Thor stood without fear, clad in Asgardian armor and horned helm, just as Thor had seen him last. "I am here, Thor," he said. "Now give me the Casket."

"No." Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir. "I have seen what you would use it for."

"Give me the Casket," Loki repeated, "or I will rain Hell down on this wretched realm you choose to defend."

The Iron Men sped toward them, and though it required even greater expenditure of his magic, Loki sent another ten projections to keep them occupied. The false gods laughed and twirled as they swarmed between and around the startled pair.

Thor lifted his head, and in his momentary distraction Loki attacked. Just before reaching Thor he divided again into a trio of Lokis, each one tackling one of Thor's arms while the third aimed a spear at his chest. He was still no match for Thor. Even as the blade scarred silver armor, Thor twisted, and from the Casket erupted a blast of ice so intense all three Lokis shattered to dust.

"It is not only Jotuns that can use this treasure," declared Thor. He turned the Casket upward, and Tony and Rhodes darted out of the way as he swiftly dispatched the remaining projections. "Did you think you were entitled to it, as a son of Laufey?"

Loki cowered. The heart-rate monitors blared in his ears, making the frantic pace of his heart even worse. When Synthia tried to speak to him, he ignored her.

"That's right, Loki," Thor continued to speak into the air. "Father told me the truth." His voice was raw with emotion. "And I am sorry that I did not know."

"No," Loki groaned, his face in his hands. "Shut up."

"Show yourself! Your true self! Tell me where you are, Loki, so we can speak as family!" Thor turned in a circle as Tony and Rhodes joined him. "Help me understand why you've done this! Please, brother!"

Loki shook his head. "Synthia," he gasped. "Increase the output from the Tesseract."

"Lord Loki, I can't," Synthia said. "It's too much."

Loki clawed out of his throne, and everyone nearby retreated several steps for fear of any contact. He whirled on the computers surrounding him, punching in the few short sequences he had bothered to learn.

"Loki, let it go," said Hammer, fidgeting just out of reach. "You already have the Tesseract. You don't need--"

"Silence!" Loki pounded on the last few keys. "I will not let him take anything else from me!"

The Tesseract's power soared into him. It washed over Loki in torrents, filling him to overflowing, drowning out his ears and eyes until there was only stinging white in all directions. The warmth that had once saturated him with life and comfort blazed into an inferno. His knees gave out, but his hands still clutched at the computer as he collapsed in front of it. He felt heavy and weightless at once, as if spinning through the air, crashing against and through the walls of Yggdrasil's veins. His mind was far away and he was passing through open, empty space. He was passing through suns.

Loki tossed his mind across the Earth once more. He materialized in front of Thor in blinding array of white and red eyes and yanked the Casket from Thor's grip. As he soared away Thor and his two companions gave chase, but his false body split apart, into two, then four, then eight, until there were dozens of him--a horde, flowing and streaking across the desert like a great serpent. 

***

Steve pressed his face to his white knuckles. He watched helplessly from the command room on the carrier as Tony and Rhodes' suits fed their displays to the monitors, creating an incomplete but gut-wrenching visual of the battle taking place. He wished he could fly. Jane's hands on his shoulder were a comfort, but a faint one, and he had to take each breath carefully to keep from shouting at Tony through his earpiece _._

His phone rang from Fury's pocket. Steve jerked upright and watched like a hawk as Fury answered. As much as he strained, he couldn't make out what was being said on the other end, but it didn't sound like Loki.

"Shut up," Fury snapped into the receiver. "And calm the hell down. Who is this?" He listened. "Hammer?"

Steve jumped to his feet and held his hand out. "Sir," he said plaintively. "Please."

Fury eyed him, but rather than hand over the phone he merely switched it to speaker. "Say that again, Hammer."

"You need to call off your boys," Hammer said, his voice swift and almost panicked. "Whatever it is they're doing, tell them stop, right now."

"You know we can't do that," Fury replied. " _You_ tell _your_ freaky horned friend to stop."

Steve clasped Fury's hand without realizing as he leaned into the phone. "Hammer, what's going on? Why does Loki want this 'Casket' so badly?"

"I don't know what the hell it is and I don't care, you just have to stop," Hammer insisted. "Listen to me, Rogers; if he works himself any harder it's going to kill him!"

"Director Fury," Rhodes said over the intercom. "We're heading toward Kramer Junction. There are civilians down there."

Fury pressed a button on the com. "That's your cue, Romanoff. Do _not_ let Loki come in contact with civilians."

"Affirmative," she replied.

Steve gulped, but when he looked at Fury he knew there was nothing he could say, and no reason to say it. "Hammer," he said to the phone. "I told Loki before that S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't surrender, and I meant it. It's up to you to make him stop."

***

Loki glided over the California landscape like a flock of predatory birds. However his body trembled back in the base his magic was infinite and glorious, and he reveled in the freedom of a hundred extensions of himself owning the sky. When the two Iron Men drew too near twenty of his phantoms broke off to intercept, jeering and taunting as they steered the two men dangerously close to each other. Even when the sky above him darkened with sudden clouds he wasn't afraid. 

"You can't hurt me now," Loki hissed, his fingers melting through the computer desk. "Leave me alone."

Hammer was buzzing in his ear. Loki ignored him, focusing instead on the dark shape that was barreling toward him: a human ship, sleek and black with weapons aimed. He bared his teeth and a hundred Lokis followed suit. Each of them brandished their spears.

The gunship opened fire. Its bullets tore through Loki's ranks, destroying many, and Loki flinched at the kickback of magic that came with each shattered projection. He reeled to one side and half his phantoms followed, the rest parting in the other direction. As soon as the gunship passed him he ordered his flock in again, aiming to pincer the vehicle and destroy it, but his brief separation had left Thor an opening. The god of thunder was barreling forward, sweeping over the hull of the ship.

Loki cursed, and tried again to activate the Casket to no avail. His phantoms closed in but Thor's hammer cleared them easily, all the way to Loki's head projection. His free hand stretched, and though Loki spun and wheeled Thor kept pace until finally closing his fingers around one end of the Casket.

"Loki, stop!" Thor shouted against the howl of quickening wind. "I do not wish to hurt you!"

"I do," Loki snarled. A dagger of ice formed in his hand and he twisted, aiming for Thor's throat.

Thor yanked on the Casket, diverting Loki's strike to his shoulder guard. Before Loki could recover Thor changed the course of their mad flight, downward toward the earth. Loki pulled and clawed in an attempt to sway them, but Thor was resolute. Even as Loki's phantoms gave chase, grasping at his armor and cloak, he continued to heave them closer and closer to impact.

They smashed into the desert in an explosion of sand and debris, and immediately from the heavens shot a bolt of lightning. It flashed down the column of false gods, spreading from one to the next and burning them apart. Loki felt each fake death, until every vestige of him and his power had been seared away, leaving only Thor in the sand clutching his prize.

Loki screamed. Thrust entirely back into his body, he retreated from the computers and collapsed against the side of his throne, shaking and gagging. The Tesseract was still pulsing under his skin and eager to continue, but his body was numb. He couldn't hear or see--there was only white, all around, invading every one of his senses. All he could do was curl protectively around his unborn child and wait.

The Tesseract receded. Even after the tubes buried in him went silent, it took several minutes for the energy to dissipate enough that his veins stopped throbbing. When at last the light had passed out of him Hammer was at his side, removing the reactor's connecting tubes and wires. "Hey, hey," he was saying, passing off the equipment to the scientists. When only the medical wires remained Hammer stopped, and took Loki by the shoulders. "Hey," he said again. "Calm down; it's over. Just take a breath, okay? You're okay. Take it easy."

His attempts at comfort were crude, but Loki depended on them. The white noise of Hammer's chatter kept him from sinking back into the all-encompassing pressure of the Tesseract. "It was Thor," he muttered once his breath had leveled out. "He took the Casket. I couldn't..."

"It's all right," Hammer said. He smoothed Loki's hair out of his face and twisted it at the nape of his neck. "Whatever that is, I'm sure we don't need it." He turned away for a minute, speaking to the HYDRA scientists crowded around them, and when he turned back it was to wipe a cool, wet cloth over Loki's forehead. "You just gotta relax now, okay? Think of the baby."

"The baby..." Loki kept his eyes closed as Hammer cleaned the sweat off his skin. As he calmed he became aware again of the child inside him and its incessant kicking. At first he thought that it was only the withdrawal he usually felt when disconnecting from the Tesseract after a long session. He stretched, wanting to get his feet with so many people around, but a sharp pain in his abdomen prevented him. His hand clenched against Hammer's chest.

"What is it?" Hammer asked.

Loki breathed slowly, his brow furrowing as he concentrated on his stomach. A deep pain was threading through his lower muscles and seeping pressure through his back. "Something's wrong," he said, his panic returning. "There's something wrong with the child."

"What do you mean?" Hammer squirmed uncomfortably and waved for Synthia to come forward. "Are you in pain?"

"Yes." Loki's heart-rate monitor began to race, and hearing it drove him to greater fear. "It hurts." When Synthia knelt down next to them he pulled her forward. "What's happening?" he demanded.

"I'm not a doctor," said Synthia. "Let's just get you up."

They helped Loki back into his throne, and before he could catch his breath the rest of the surrounding doctors and scientists crowded forward. They pored over the monitors, and took his blood pressure, and prodded gently at his torso and back. Their voices blended together into unintelligible blather. He tried to listen to their questions but all he could hear was the wailing machinery. His muscles were clenching and his skin felt too tonight on top of them, as if it were about to burst at every one of his Jotun seams. The power of the universe lay behind him but he was helpless.

"Justin." Loki pushed two men out of the way to snag Hammer's sleeve and yank him close. "Tell me what's happening!" he demanded.

"It's okay," Justin said, easing Loki's grasping fingers around his hand instead. "But you, ah--don't freak out, you're fine. It's probably just contractions."

"Contractions?" Loki echoed weakly.

"Yeah, you know." Hammer rubbed the back of his hand. "Baby's coming. Yeah? Exciting, huh?"

Loki's breath hissed through his slack lips. "It's too soon."

"Well, maybe, but that's up to Loki Jr."

Loki shook his head. Everything was going white again. "But Thor is here," he wheezed. "They have the Casket now, and Steven..." He pulled at Hammer anxiously. "Where is Steven?"

Hammer tried to shush him. "We can't worry about that now."

One of the scientists touched Loki's belly, and in a moment of panic he tossed the man back. "Stop!" he snarled, and the rest of them backed away. "Don't touch me!" When Hammer tried to lean back as well, Loki reeled him in again. "Get me Steven."

"Okay, okay." Hammer worked his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. "Hold on. I'll call him."

***

"Still no sign of him," Natasha reported. "Do you want us to keep waiting? It doesn't look like he's coming back."

"No, that's fine," said Fury. "If you have that thing secured, get it back here as soon as you can. I want to know what's so special about it. And thanks for the assist, Col. Rhodes."

"My pleasure, sir _._ "

Fury turned away from the monitors and on to Steve. "Captain Rogers," he said sternly, but before he could get anything else out, Steve's phone rang again. With a scowl, Fury answered. "Hammer, I sure hope you weren't planning to defend yourself as a victim on _this_ one."

"Ah, hello there, um, sir. Director," Hammer corrected. "Am I on speaker? Is Captain Rogers there _?_ "

Steve lifted his head. "You're on speaker," he told Hammer evenly, praying he understood to be cautious of what he said. "What is it?"

There was a rustling on the other end of the line, and then Loki's harsh breath rasped through. "I promised I would call you," he said, "when it was time."

Steve's knees wobbled, and it was only Jane taking him by the arm that kept him from showing it. A hundred thoughts and worries assaulted him at once, but he held them in. "So soon?"

"Time for what?" Fury demanded.

"Will you come?" Loki asked. "You promised _._ "

Steve squeezed his eyes briefly shut. "And you promised you wouldn't attack us, so long as we left you alone. You broke your word and our truce."

"No one was injured. Just as I--"

"I'm not going to split hairs over this anymore," Steve interrupted angrily. "Now we have Thor, and a weapon that can stop you. It's over, Loki. I'm coming for you." His chest constricted but his voice didn't waver. "And I'm not coming alone."

Loki was silent for a long, tense moment. "Very well," he said, and hung up.

Steve stared at the phone up until Fury shoved it back in his pocket. Everyone watched him. They were expecting him to speak, to explain himself, but he didn't have the words. He only faced Director Fury and said, "Please."

"Do you know where he is?" Fury asked.

"No. But Stark had a theory, and I think it's sound. We should be able to confirm easily enough." Steve stared straight back at him. "Please, sir."

Fury nodded. "Rally the troops," he told Coulson. "And tell them to suit up. We're going hunting."

As everyone hurried to comply, Jane circled around in front of Steve. "Are you sure about this?" she asked quietly.

"I have to be," replied Steve. "I've given Loki every chance I could--he's made his choice." He set his jaw. "And I'm not going to let him put anyone in danger anymore. _Anyone_."

Jane nodded in understanding, and quietly wished Steve good luck as he joined Clint on his way to the armory.

***

Loki stared down at the phone. For a full minute after ending the call he only stared as a shudder ran the length of his body. His child was eager to leave him too soon. His brother was on his way, seeking answers. His lover had turned against him. All the world was his enemy--fate itself had tricked him into a perfect trap. Once again he was alone on the brink with only bees as company, and he wanted to cry out in agony. Everything was coming apart and it was his own doing. Again.

"Lord Loki," Johanna said at last. "We must fight."

Loki's eyes narrowed. In the absence of all else, her words bored into him. "Yes," he murmured, feeling them resound against his bones like an affirmation. "Yes, we must fight." He let the phone drop from his hand and straightened, his sight blurring across the collection of anxious, unidentifiable faces around him. "Secure the facility," he ordered. "Charge every available weapon, and seal off the skylight. If they think they can come for me, they are mistaken. I will fight." He pressed his hand to his aching belly. "I will fight."


	14. Chapter 14

Steve stared at himself in the mirror. It was only the fourth time he had worn his new uniform, and despite the testing and training he had been put through in it he still wasn't entirely accustomed to it yet. It fit him perfectly, moved with him effortlessly, and was bright and bold and patriotic just as his old uniform in the SSR had been. It should have imbued him with pride. He had earned the stars and stripes that crossed his torso, in every way that mattered to his country. But as he prepared for his suit's combat debut, he touched the emblem on his chest and felt only weight. 

"I hope you're watching, Bucky," he murmured. "Because I could really use you on this one."

Clint poked his head around the corner. "Looking sharp, Cap. Ready?"

"Yeah." Steve hefted his shield and followed him out. As they made their way to the deck he caught Clint sending him sideways looks. "What is it?"

"You know there's been a lot of talk, right?" Clint said bluntly. "About you and Loki."

Steve stared straight ahead. "Say whatever you've got to say, Barton."

Clint obliged. "Is it true he was really that woman you were dating? Some girl you met in a club?"

"Yes."

"And you knocked boots? Bumped uglies? I don't know what they called it back--"

"Yes," said Steve. He climbed up one of the aft ladders onto the deck. "We slept together."

Clint climbed up behind him, and looked surprised when Steve offered him a hand. He hopped onto the deck and finally got to the point. "So was he a woman at the time?" he asked, boyishly curious. "Or a guy?"

"Does it matter?" Steve replied.

Clint blinked, as if it hadn't occurred to him that it might not. "No. I guess it doesn't." His expression hardened. "Except that he's our objective. The Director's given us permission to use deadly force on whatever we find in there."

"It doesn't change anything," said Steve. He turned toward the helicopter waiting for them, and Clint followed. "I'd rather bring them all in alive, but if that's not feasible, take whatever shot you can, Barton. I won't be holding back."

He nodded gravely. "I understand."

They boarded the helicopter and found Coulson waiting for them. "Captain," he greeted. "Agent Barton. The rest of the team will be meeting us on site." He smiled. "Let's keep this helicopter in better shape than the last one, okay?"

"No promises," said Clint dryly as he took his seat.

Steve settled in across from him. As the helicopter took off he closed his eyes, preparing himself for the long flight ahead. He only had a few hours to come up with some kind of plan, and he prayed it would be enough.

***

Hammer weaved through the throngs of soldiers, dodging out of the way of carelessly brandished weapons and passing ammunition. He was already breathing hard, sweat in his collar. The HYDRA agents sent him cold looks everywhere he went, all the way to Johanna's command unit on the top floor. She was standing in front of a collection of monitors, arms crossed, her most trusted soldiers at her side.

"Schmidt." Hammer huffed as he skidded to a halt next to her and had to lean against the back of a nearby chair. "The hell is taking so long? We need more weapons down there."

"You already have as many as I can spare," said Johanna. "Who would you give them to? The scientists?" she scoffed. "Besides, if they make it through us, more guns down there won't do anyone any good. Look."

She pointed to one of the monitors, which displayed a view from one of Hammer's security cameras. It had been hidden inside a barn at the nearest crossroads, pointing at what had once been an empty field. Now it was filled with three S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopters and what looked like a gunship. Agents in combat gear were setting up a camp, and among them Hammer spotted both Iron Men and a man in a cape.

"Holy shit," Hammer muttered.

"They know we're here." Johanna grabbed Hammer by his lapel. "And it's because _you_ let that S.H.I.E.L.D. spy in here. This is your fault!"

"I told you they'd find us here eventually, didn't I?" Hammer swatted ineffectively at her hand. "I told _you_ to find your supplies somewhere further away. Of course they were able to follow us home."

Johanna scowled and shoved him away. "Go back to your wife," she snapped. "And get him hooked back up to that thing as soon as possible. We need his magic to support us."

Hammer shook his head. "He can't--he's in _labor_." Even saying the words made him dizzy. "We have to wait until after she's born or it could hurt--"

"Then cut it out of him already." Johanna cursed in German. "This child nonsense has gone on long enough. Take care of it, or I'll come down there myself."

Hammer glared back and almost retorted, but he wasn't interested in another man-handling. "Yes ma'am," he said sardonically and then showed himself out.

The elevators had already been sealed, and the stairwells would be next. Hammer raced back to the bottom level of the facility and was by then gasping. "I'm not in good enough shape for this," he grumbled as he threw his tie and jacket into his suite. He rolled up his sleeves and let himself into the reactor chamber.

It looked like something out of the Pentagon. Every monitor was active, either with medical readouts or security camera views from around the facility. The scientists were running about all over the place, checking vitals and filling syringes and God only knew what else. Hammer dodged past them to the center of the room, where the bed from Loki's personal quarters had been pulled out in front of his throne. Loki was propped up against the headboard, naked but draped in fresh sheets. He was an even more bizarre sight than usual, sweat on his blue skin, his face twisted with strain. Before letting his presence be known, Hammer slipped over to Dr. Yeon.

"How's he doing?" he asked quietly. "Is he, you know?" He twirled his finger. "Dilated? More than before, anyway?"

"I don't know," she snapped. "He doesn't have a cervix."

Hammer looked inadvertently to the shape of Loki's thighs beneath the sheets. "But, wait. He did earlier. I _saw_ it." He rubbed his face. "I didn't mean to, Jesus--"

"Well, it's gone now," Dr. Yeon said impatiently. "His anatomy keeps changing. You're going to have to convince him to let us operate, because at this rate--"

"Okay, okay." Hammer held up his hands. "I'll talk to him."

"I am _not_ this kind of doctor, you know," she continued as he moved away. "None of us are. Next time you're going to kidnap doctors for your science projects, make sure they're--"

"All right!" Hammer shooed her away and continued to Loki's side. "Damn it." 

He dropped onto a stool at the bed's side and reached out, brushing Loki's hair out of his face. "Hey," he said, his voice coming out thinner than he'd intended. He swallowed. "Hanging in there, big guy?"

Loki kept his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. "Put it back," he murmured. "Connect me to the Tesseract."

"I can't. I told you before." Hammer used his toe to snag a nearby crate full of bottled waters and drew it closer. "You can't have that needle sticking in you while you're having contractions. And besides, we can't get anywhere near you when you're hooked up."

Loki growled and tried to draw the sheets over him. "I do not need your help."

"I can see that." Hammer squeezed his shoulder. "Come on--take a drink. You're thirsty, aren't you?"

Loki opened his eyes. Without a word he reached out, and accepted Hammer's help in gulping down almost a full bottle of water. "There, that's better," said Hammer as Loki settled again. "But listen, there's one more thing. Dr. Yeon says--"

"No one is cutting me open," Loki hissed.

"Okay--okay." Hammer wiped sweat off his forehead and drank the rest of the water down himself. "But then you've gotta do something else for me. You need to be...at least twenty percent more female than you are now. In fact, it'd probably be better if you were _entirely_ female for this." He gave Loki's arm an encouraging rub. "Think you can manage that? Maybe if you go back to being Lori, it'd be easier."

Loki licked his lips. A shiver ran through him and pain furrowed his brow. He looked weaker than Hammer had ever seen him. After several deep breaths his body began to change: blue skin softened into warm, human flesh and a woman's gentle face. His body curved beneath the sheets.

"Good," Hammer encouraged him. "Good, that's good. Now just stay like that. Baby's gotta have somewhere to go, you know."

Loki groaned softly as he tried to stretch. "It's too soon," he said. "I thought I would have more time..."

Hammer tried not to make a face. "We told you not to over-exert yourself."

Loki grumbled something unintelligible and then asked, "Where's Steven?"

"Well..." Hammer glanced over his shoulder to the array of monitors, especially the few that displayed the exterior of the facility. One showed the field where S.H.I.E.L.D. was gathering, but he didn't see any particular sign of the captain yet. "He's on his way," he said. "But so is the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D., and they're not bringing cigars and balloons."

Loki's clarity seemed to return to him, and his eyes focused sharply on Hammer. "Thor is here."

"...Yeah."

Loki squirmed and arched his back. "How much time do I have?"

"I don't know," said Hammer. "Johanna's going to try to hold them off, but who knows for how long without your help. Not more than a few hours, I'm sure." He fidgeted. "What do you want me to do?"

"Stay." Loki slipped his hand out from under the sheets and fumbled at Hammer's knee. "Stay right where you are."

"Okay." Hammer took his hand and squeezed. "I'll stay."

He glanced up and noticed Synthia at the far end of the room, speaking to a pair of Johanna's soldiers. When she looked his way, he was at a loss to interpret her dead-eyed expression. With one last order to the soldiers she left the chamber.

Hammer frowned, but then Loki tensed with another contraction, and the distraction put it out of his mind.

***

"The current CEO of Hammer Industries gave us this," said Tony, standing at the head of a small assembly of agents and his Avenger peers. He indicated the screen projected behind him against the inside of one of the camp tents; it displayed blueprints for Hammer's Skanee facility. "They were using the facility for energy research up until a year ago. Place has been locked down ever since. But judging by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s satellite photos--" the image changed to a bright red and orange display "--the place is hopping now. Considering the energy readings we're getting off the thing, and the theft that took place in eastern Wisconsin last week, we're pretty darn sure this is where our multi-headed friends have been hiding."

"I had two agents stationed out here just after Hammer was sprung from prison," added Coulson. "They've reported in every day for the last several weeks." His expression darkened. "Their recently discovered corpses show they have been dead almost that entire time. We suspect that HYDRA found them early on and used Loki's gift for deception to falsify their reports."

Steve worked his jaws. He no longer felt any sliver of guilt for the dissolution of his truce with Loki.

"The bulk of the facility is underground," Tony continued. "There are four stories above ground, six below. The reactor is in the lowest level, here." He switched the display back to the blueprint in order to point it out. "With the way it's lit up, we assume this is where the Tesseract is, and how they're powering everything, since they're not sucking the juice out of every town within a hundred miles of here."

"What's that shaft?" Natasha asked, pointing. "It looks like a straight shot to the reactor."

"It is. Goes all the way through the building. Put simply, it's an exhaust shaft for the reactor."

"Then we can follow it all the way to Loki," said Thor.

Tony quickly shook his head. "It was built to funnel any excess energy out of the reactor and _up_ , which means that at any moment HYDRA could overload that thing and _boom_ , it becomes a canon. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not end up in the stratosphere."

"Captain Rogers," prompted Coulson. "Why don't you prep everyone on HYDRA's combat capabilities?"

Steve moved to the front, ignoring Thor's glare, while Tony stepped back. It had been a long time since he'd stood at the front of a war council, and it gave him a much needed boost of confidence. "HYDRA has had the Tesseract for several weeks now," he began. "We have to assume that they are at least as effective at using it as Johan Schmidt was in my time. That means that any of their weapons could be charged with the Tesseract's energy. Any shot from one of those things is lethal on contact, so we won't be taking any unnecessary risks."

"What's our point of entry?" asked Natasha.

Steve didn't hesitate. "The front door."

"Nothing unnecessary about that," Clint quipped.

"Satellite photos show there aren't any HYDRA soldiers stationed outside," Steve continued. "But chances are they know we're coming. We're going to use heavy artillery to blow open the front entrance and rear loading bay. Col. Rhodes will be leading a small team at the rear including Agents Romanoff and Barton, but I want you to hold your ground outside the facility until my order. Thor, Mr. Stark and I will attack from the front. Our objective is to take command of the upper level as quickly and efficiently as possible, targeting HYDRA's weapons. Once the upper level is secure, Coulson's agents will begin apprehending any enemy combatants. The rest of us will continue into the lower level, but again, Thor and I will take point."

Steve took in a deep breath. "We don't know where in the facility Loki will be," he said. "My gut tells me we'll find him in the lowest sub-basement, along with the Tesseract itself, but chances are he'll again use projections of himself to fight us the whole way. From what we can tell, a few shots of any kind will dispel these projections. If you find the real Loki, _do not engage._ Call for the rest of the team and get the hell out of his way. We've all seen what he can do."

His gaze slipped inadvertently to Tony, who was trying not to grimace. "Thor and I will handle Loki," Steve went on. "But you'll have to be careful not to get carried away down there, Thor. We're going to be several stories underground and we don't know the full structural limits of the facility."

"I have no intention of burying us," said Thor.

Steve nodded. Thor's eyes on him were still heavy, but he refused to let his focus waver. "Assuming HYDRA hasn't changed their ways since I knew them, they may have taken civilians captive to work for them. We expect that Dr. Patricia Yeon and her team are down there somewhere. Remember, this isn't war--we want to take as many alive as we can." He met Thor's gaze. "That includes Loki. There are still HYDRA operatives in hiding all over the world, and we need all the intel we can get. But I'm certain that HYDRA won't be nearly as considerate. We'll have to trust each other to use sound judgment once we're in there.

"Now." He looked to each of his soldiers. "Any questions?"

"What's our exit strategy if things go to hell?" asked Rhodes.

"If we need to regroup fast, we'll meet at the rear," said Steve. "Like I said before, we want to do this quick, but careful. Agent Coulson has ear pieces for all of us to wear so we can stay in contact. Those of us not in suits, anyway."

"I've given JARVIS a few upgrades since joining the team," added Tony, unable to keep a certain _I-told-you-so_ charm out of his voice. "He'll have his eye on us while we're in there, in case we lose track of each other."

"Then if that's it, we're ready to go." Steve looked them over again, and when no one objected, he called the meeting to a close. "We move out at 0100."

As soon as everyone broke away to prepare, Thor set his sights on Steve. Steve had expected as much. He motioned for Thor to follow, and together they moved behind one of the dormant helicopters, out of earshot of most of the soldiers.

"What you said this morning," said Thor as soon as they were alone. "You were sincere?"

"I wouldn't joke about something like that," Steve replied.

"Then you, and my brother..." Thor rubbed his beard and looked downright squeamish. Steve couldn't blame him. "But he deceived you?" he asked carefully. "You said he took disguise."

Steve frowned, and in watching Thor's intense stare and furrowed brow it occurred to him what was really being asked of him. "Yes," he said, "he did. But I'm not going into this looking for some kind of revenge." His stomach tightened. "I want to get him out of this alive as much as you do. But if we're going to do that, we need to work together. And I need you to trust me."

Thor still looked apprehensive, but when Steve offered his hand, he took in a deep breath and accepted it.

At one in the morning, they moved out. Rather than take the road they trekked through the sparse forestry, while Thor, Tony, and Rhodes flew ahead. Though it made Steve anxious to be behind, he had Tony in his ear and he trusted Thor to honor their plans. As they moved through the underbrush, the quiet swish of foliage made him think of his commandoes at his back.

Steve separated from the rest of his team, circling around the clearing to the front where Tony and Thor were waiting for him. As he came to the tree line, he spotted the facility. Its exterior was unremarkable, unlike the grand HYDRA bases that Schmidt had personally designed and constructed with the support of the Nazi war effort. Steve scanned each visible window and doorway and saw nothing. Only tire tracks in the gravel gave any indication that it might be occupied.

"Looks pretty empty from here," said Tony as they grouped behind a collection of tall pines. "Not a sound and all the lights are out."

Thor shook his head. "My brother _is_ in there. I can sense father's Tesseract."

Steve pressed his hand over his ear. "Team Bravo, are you in position?"

"In position and ready," replied Clint. "I can see movement on the fourth floor _._ "

"He really does have eyes like a hawk," muttered Tony.

Steve squinted up at the fourth floor windows. He didn't see anything, either, but he trusted Clint's eyesight more than his own. Even more convincing was when he stepped out from behind cover and scraped his foot along the gravel driveway. The sound of it crunching under his boot was familiar. "We're in the right place," he said confidently. "Ready the heavy artillery and fire on my signal."

Tony stepped up next to him and lifted his arm. A hatch in his forearm opened, and from it a slender missile no more than six inches long whirred into position. "Ready," he said.

"Ready _,_ " said Rhodes.

" _Fire._ "

The missile launched. It sped across the courtyard and buried itself in the front entrance of the facility with the dull clunk of a Fourth of July firework, and after a short pause exploded in devastating display. The entrance door was blown off its hinges, metal and glass spraying in all directions, fire scorching up the outside walls. Three seconds later another, larger explosion sounded from the rear, and dark smoke rose over the top of the building.

"Sounds like you've upgraded your Hammer tech from last time," Tony said.

"At some point, Tony, even you will get tired of saying 'I told you so,'" retorted Rhodes.

They waited for one full minute, but still nothing stirred within the facility. "We're sure this is the place, aren't we?" asked Natasha.

"It is a trap," declared Thor. "They mean to draw us in and attack from all sides." He snorted. "A coward's tactic." His fist clenched around Mjolnir's handle as he turned toward Steve. "Allow me to spring it."

Steve frowned, but having witnessed glimpses of Thor's battle with Loki just that morning, he trusted Thor's assessment of his own strength. He nodded. "We'll be behind you," he said.

Thor faced the building, his body lowering and tensing like a jungle cat preparing to pounce. When he charged it was so swift that even Steve had trouble following him with his eyes. He barreled through the opening in the front of the building like a rocket, and immediately from inside weapons discharged and lights flashed. Steve could only make out a flurry of red cape and blue-white energy, and then, above the cacophony of blasts and crashing, Thor bellowing with exuberant fury.

Steve motioned to Tony, and immediately Tony's boosters carried him into the battle. "Thor is in," Steve reported to the rest of his team as he sprinted across the courtyard. "Stark and I are joining him. Team Bravo, hold your ground."

Steve leapt through the shattered entrance and immediately had to block a shot from one of HYDRA's guns against his shield. It didn't stop his momentum. A second set of doors had been demolished by Thor and his hammer, and Steve passed through them into the facility's lobby. It was just as Thor had said; the lobby was open up through the third floor, and HYDRA's soldiers were lined on the upper levels, firing down at Thor and Tony from over the rails. Their strategy might have worked if not for the god of thunder. Thor had already soared up to the third floor and was ripping the railings off with his bare hands, sending the more eager of HYDRA's soldiers tumbling into a three-story drop.

More shots rang out from Steve's left, and he twisted, easily defending with his shield. HYDRA soldiers had taken refuge behind the overturned reception desk, but before Steve could retaliate, Tony's repulsors sent the furniture crashing into the wall, enemy combatants and all.

"Captain," said Natasha in Steve's ear. "I've spotted another point of entry. I think I can get directly to the third floor. Permission to proceed?"

"Granted," Steve replied. From the looks of things Thor and Tony would have no trouble securing the lower levels on their own, and so, remembering the blueprint layouts, he headed for the stairwell. "I'm heading up. Rhodes and Barton, cover Romanoff. We don't know the state of the fourth floor yet."

He received their affirmatives and continued on. A small group of soldiers had holed up in the stairwell entrance, but a swift thrust of Steve's shield smashed them into each other and rendered all but one unconscious. After dispatching the last, Steve took a moment to pull off one glove. He pressed his hand to the wall and felt the Tesseract's telltale vibration echoing up from the lowest levels of the facility. But as Hammer had said, there was something beneath it: tension and pain, like piano wires drawing tight behind the walls. He could almost feel it threading between his ribs.

"Loki." Steve shoved his glove back on and raced up the stairs. "I'm coming for you next."

***

Loki squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate. It was nearly impossible, with so many voices in the room, so much noise from the monitors. Hammer was doing his best to maintain order, but his efforts were too frantic to be useful. Thor had not used his lightning, but his presence in the base was like a flare at the back of Loki's mind, blazing back and forth with every swing of his hammer. It was driving Loki mad.

But none of it compared to the agony his own body was putting him through. The contractions were coming minutes apart, each one the jaws of a beast twisting through his abdomen and lower back. He had tried using his magic to quell them, but he was too fearful of the child's well-being to risk altering too much of himself. He told himself he had endured worse pain. He tried to remember falling through the universe, Heaven and Hell tearing at him from either side, but even that couldn't match the feeling of his own body helplessly beyond his control. Over and over the humans asked him questions, offered suggestion and orders, telling him to relax, to breathe, but all he wanted was to take each by the throat and squeeze until their breath rattled out of them. He wanted to rip through every ripe body in his path, to spill blood and bile, but most of all to share with every last man and woman the pain and terror consuming him.

"Help me," Loki whispered, turning his weary eyes on the reactor. "Help me."

The Tesseract hummed in answer. It reminded Loki of their reunion in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base, and the power they had unleashed even before he fused them with science. He didn't need the Tesseract in his blood to command it. With a deep breath he let his mind drift away, up the floors of the facility and into the battlefield. The Tesseract's light saturated every metallic vein and appliance above, stretching out like Yggdrasil's branches waiting to be tapped.

Loki bared his teeth. All at once his projections sprang from every corner, every wall socket, every exposed wire. With the Tesseract pulsing beside him, he made an army of himself. A hundred snarling gods in horned armor swarmed into the lobby and set their eyes on Thor.

Thor had wreaked impressive devastation on HYDRA's advance force. He had finished securing the main entrance and was sweeping through the second floor when Loki's horde caught up to him. They snatched at his arms and legs and tore at his cloak, spurring on his already great momentum and propelling him clear through the rear wall of the building and into the loading bay.

"Loki?" Hammer asked from far away. "What is it _now_?"

Loki's eyelids fluttered. He channeled his fear and frustration into each snarling projection as they drove Thor into the harsh concrete. Thor was not stunned for long--even on his knees he was able to destroy the nearest projections with one swoop of Mjolnir. Just when he had nearly reclaimed his footing, Loki redoubled his efforts, his copies stabbing at Thor with their spears while reinforcements swirled overhead.

Gunfire erupted, shearing through the higher ranks of Loki's whirlwind. Loki tried to conjure more in order to combat Rhodes' artillery, but his weapons fired too swiftly, with too many bullets, for his shadows to get close. With Rhodes firing high and Thor pummeling from below, it wasn't long before Loki's numbers had been whittled down to one.

"You cannot win this, brother!" Thor hollered. "Surrender the Tesseract, or I will force it from you."

"Never," said Loki, though his words didn't make it past the scientists crowding around him. His lips pulled back in a grimace. "You mustn't see me like this."

Loki's army sprang into life again, this time through the floor, cracking concrete to snatch at Thor's and Rhodes' ankles. They clawed up the bodies of their adversaries, were shot and heaved down but were replaced two-fold for each one felled. Loki grinned in mad delight as he pried Rhodes' armor apart at the seams and ripped the emblems from Thor's chestplate. His body was anguish itself and he wanted them to feel it.

Their pain wasn't enough. The Tesseract was still urging him on, and with its power Loki sent more phantoms whirling through the interior of the facility. They quickly located Tony Stark, and though his repulsors and lasers had been upgraded and did no small damage, he was no match against dozens.

"Die," Loki hissed as his fingers wound in sweaty sheets. "I want all of you to die."

***

Steve had just plowed through another line of HYDRA soldiers when Tony began cursing in his ear.

"Rogers--there's too many. I'm pulling back _."_

A flash of lightning through the east window alerted Steve's attention. "Thor is with Rhodes at the rear," he said. "Get to them and hold your ground as long as you can. I'll be there soon."

The blueprints had indicated that the top floor of the facility was executive suites. Each room had only one entrance and was ideal for anyone holing up for a fight. Steve raced down the line of offices, his shield a battering ram as he incapacitated soldier after soldier. His heart was pounding in his ears and he could feel Loki raging all around him, but his momentum didn't falter. The last door had Hammer's name in the nameplate and he crashed through it into a firestorm. 

Weapons discharged from all angles. Steve kept low as he heaved himself into the line of HYDRA's last resistance, unapologetic to the men and women caught in their own crossfire. As he made his way around the circular office-turned-command center, a blast of swirling blue and white rocketed past his fleeing back and disintegrated much of the wall in its path. Steve whirled, and hefted his shield in time to catch the second shot. The impact rocked even his vibranium, throwing him into a heavy cabinet. Wood cracked beneath his weight and then shattered completely when a third volley pounded him against it.

Steve peered out from around his shield long enough to spot his attacker: the shots were coming from a narrow-barreled canon mounted on a turning base. He only caught a glimpse of Johanna Schmidt's hard-featured face glaring at him from behind the controls. He tucked and rolled, dodging another series of shots, but she was swiftly able to anticipate his movements and managed to again send him flying into the walls of the room.

An arrow shot through the recently destroyed wall, striking precisely down the canon's barrel. There was no explosion, only a hiss and a pop, and when Johanna yanked on the trigger again nothing came out. Undeterred, she snatched up a rifle from the shelf behind her. She whirled on Steve, but by then he had already flung his shield. It struck her in the shoulder and spun her just enough that her first volley pulled far wide of her target, giving Steve the opportunity to all but fling himself across the office and into her.

His fist in Johanna's gut sent her sprawling, but she recovered far more quickly than he had expected, and her well-aimed punch to his throat reeled him. She pursued, a knife drawn from her belt. Steve twisted just in time to avoid being gutted; the blade skidded along his stripes, its serrations catching in the Kevlar. As they attacked and parried, Natasha glided into the office and began swiftly dispatching the remaining HYDRA soldiers. It wasn't long before only Johanna was left, her eyes wild with hate as she attacked Steve again and again. Her rage made her sloppy. Steve only had to retreat, and when her arm tired he struck, bending her wrist back until she released the knife. Two quick punches to her stomach and an ankle sweep later she was on the ground.

Johanna growled and cursed in German until it became clear that Steve had her pinned. "You are unworthy," she panted. "You are unworthy of the strength you were given!"

"Maybe," said Steve, catching his breath. "But your predecessor didn't do any better."

Johanna glared at him, but then a calm came over her features, and she laughed. "It doesn't matter." She spread her lips in a wide grin. "Cut off one--"

Steve shoved his gloved hand into her mouth. She gagged, struggling, but he had no trouble locating the one loose tooth. He pulled it free and tossed the cyanide capsule away long before she could use it. "Not this time," he said. "You're keeping your head."

Johanna only resumed her laughter. Steve leaned back, preparing to haul her upright, and noticed too late her hand moving toward her belt. "I am not the head," she said, pressing a button beneath her belt buckle.

The canon nearby began to bleat in warning, as did all the rifles and handguns strewn across the chamber. Steve released Johanna immediately and reeled back. "Take cover!" he shouted, snatching up his shield as he turned. Natasha was already diving beneath the desk, and with no time to make it through the open wall Steve slid into her. She curled as tight as she could and he did the same, protecting her with his body while his shield did the best it could for him. They had barely stopped moving when everything exploded.

***

The facility rocked. Even six stories below Hammer felt the vibration, and he watched nervously as several of the security monitors turned to static. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to stare at each other, and a murmur rose between them.

"That's it," said one man. "It's over--Schmidt's lost."

"If HYDRA's finished, there's no reason for us to stay here."

Their mumblings were interrupted by Loki jerking on the bed, and his voice piercing the chamber in a wail of agony. His hands flew to his eyes but not soon enough to hide his tears. He was sweating and shaking, and the Tesseract throbbed with him, saturating every molecule of air with tense reverberations.

Hammer waved frantically at the scientists. "Hey--don't get any ideas. There are still soldiers out there. Some of you have been with HYDRA all along! Get back here and help me deliver this baby for Christ's sake!"

"We don't work for you," snapped Dr. Yeon. "We're prisoners. And if Schmidt is dead, I'm getting the hell out of here."

Several of her colleagues joined in, but the moment she turned away from the bed, a gunshot rang out. The bullet hit her in the temple and sprayed her brain matter out the other side; she dropped to the ground in a heap and twitched momentarily before falling still and dead.

The remaining scientists reeled back and quickly located her killer: Synthia, standing between them and the exit. Her eyes were cold as she motioned them back to work with the barrel of her gun. "Deliver the baby," she ordered. "If anyone tries to leave I'll kill them myself."

Even Hammer shrank back. Without further complaint the scientists and doctors returned to work, crowding around Loki and his monitors. Slowly their chatter resumed, but Hammer cast Synthia one last, incredulous look before turning back to Loki.

"Lord Loki." Hammer touched his shoulder and leaned in close. "You're out of time, buddy."

"Get it out," Loki whimpered. "Get this thing out of me!"

"I know, I know." Hammer glanced to the doctors as they helped reposition Loki's knees wider. "It's time to start pushing. You just gotta...you know, keep breathing." 

"Curse you, Steven Rogers," Loki growled, his face winding tight. "I curse you. I curse you to the icy hell of Jotunheim!"

Another contraction rolled into him, and he bore down, groaning through clenched jaws. Hammer held his breath as he watched Loki writhe and gasp. It was surreal and he was desperately glad that Loki had become fully female for it. "You're all right," he said, taking Loki's hand when there was a moment of rest. "You're doing great, really. I'm sure it won't be long--"

Loki's hand seized around his, and Hammer was too slow to withdraw. Five slender fingers crushed his palm with a snap of bone and arm-numbing pain. Hammer choked on his own outcry and pawed at Loki's vice-liked grip, but Loki was senseless and growling, refusing to let go. "Loki!" Hammer croaked as feeling left his fingers. He soon realized that fighting was only grinding his already mangled bones together, and he stopped, cowering at Loki's bedside as sweat poured down his face.

"Okay," he squeaked. His glasses slid down his nose and he finally just shook them off. "Okay, I'm here. You've got me." He gulped. "Let's have this baby."

The doctors ordered Loki to push again. He arched against the headboard and cried.

***

Steve waited until the room had settled before uncurling. Fire and debris had scored his uniform, leaving streaks of burning welts down his calves and one nasty bump at the back of his head, but he was otherwise uninjured. As he pulled himself out from under the desk he glanced over Natasha and was relieved to find her with barely a scratch on her. "You all right?" he asked anyway.

"Fine." Natasha brushed herself off, and together they surveyed the room.

Every weapon had detonated. The searing energy of the Tesseract in each one had made for an impressive explosion, blowing out every window and chunks of the walls in many places. Much of the furniture had been scorched black. There was barely any trace of HYDRA. The dispersing energy had disintegrated their bodies, leaving only boots and a few patches of blood behind. Steve moved to the space Johanna had occupied and found that only her false tooth remained, its cyanide sizzling against the floor.

"Everyone, report," he said into his earpiece.

"Stark here _,_ " came Tony's response first. "I'm with Rhodes and Thor in the rear garage. We're banged up but okay."

"What's your situation?" Steve asked as he and Natasha passed through the shattered wall.

"Pretty neutral, at the moment. Looks like most of HYDRA's weapons self destructed. Took all the damn Lokis with them _."_

Steve removed his glove and pressed it to the wall. He could still feel the tension emanating from deep within the facility, even stronger than before. Somewhere below, Loki was terrified. It put a tremor in his gut. "Barton? What about you?"

"Oh," said Clint. "I'm just...hanging out _."_

They found Clint's bow wedged in an open window, and Clint clinging to it, his body dangling outside the building. After helping him in, the three of them regrouped with their peers in the lobby. Though both Iron Man armors were scorched and Rhodes' was loose in places, all of them seemed no worse for wear and agreed they were able to continue.

"Agent Coulson, the four levels above ground are secure," reported Steve. "Looks like only a handful of HYDRA soldiers survived, but you might as well round them up."

"Affirmative, Captain."

Coulson and his agents entered through the front. With the help of Steve and his companions they collected the survivors and secured them with hand and ankle cuffs. Once the majority had been handled, Steve became anxious to continue. 

"Rhodes and Barton will stay up top," he said. "Stay with Coulson and keep an eye out, just in case there are stragglers or if Loki shows back up. The rest of us are going under. There are six levels--Stark and Romanoff will take the odd floors, Thor and I will take evens. Clean up whoever you find and make sure the level is secure before continuing, so we don't get pinned down there. Once you two finish level five, wait. Do not proceed to six unless I ask you to."

Everyone agreed. Following his memory of his first visit, Steve counted the steps through the first floor, down a short set of stairs, and through another door into the elevator vestibule. The stairwells had been welded shut but Thor's hammer made quick work of that. They split up, Natasha and Tony exiting at the first sub-basement as Steve and Thor headed to the second.

"There is something wrong with Loki," Thor said as they reached the door. "I can feel him screaming all through the walls."

"I know--I feel it, too." Steve swallowed. "But we still have to do this right. Let's be quick."

***

Loki pushed for what felt like hours. He pushed until it felt like his body was tearing itself apart, until every tendon and ligament threatened to snap. He barely registered the scientists blithering all around, their hands prodding, Hammer's whimpered "Oh _God_ ," constantly at his ear. The world smeared into blaring lights and agony until finally, blissfully, something gave way and the child was _out_. Loki collapsed against the bed, his relief so profound he almost gagged on it. His every breath was a sob. Emotion coursed through him waves, and it wasn't until Hammer pried his hand free that Loki remembered he had been holding it at all.

"Good God!" Hammer moaned, slumping away from the bed. Loki could feel him shaking. 

Loki forced his eyes open, but they were blurred with tears and he could only make out smears in the too-bright lights. "Is she... Where is she?"

The doctors gasped and murmured to each other, and Loki squirmed with apprehension. "Where is my child?" he demanded. "Is she well?" He clawed at the bed. "Let me see her!"

"She's all right, sir," said a man, though his voice was weak. "She's fine--she's breathing."

A soft cry rose in the tense room. Loki's breath left him, and he sagged again onto the mattress. He had done it. He didn't know if he could call it pride that overflowed him then, but it was blazing and it was his to savor. His child was in the world. He shuddered.

"Now hold on," said one of the doctors. "You're not quite finished yet. There's still--"

Loki closed his eyes, and with a moan his transformation fell away. For the first time in almost three months his body became fully his again, from his face to his limbs to his organs. It was so gratifying to be himself that fresh tears rolled down his flush cheeks. He touched his flat stomach and laughed.

The doctor sighed. "Well, never mind, then."

"Justin," said Loki, waving blindly. "Where are you?"

"I'm still here," Hammer wheezed.

Loki looked at him. Hammer's face was clammy with sweat and almost white, and he was cradling his right hand against his chest. It was swollen and purple. Loki frowned. "What happened to your hand?"

Hammer gulped and managed a frail smile. "Uh, nothing. I'm fine. How about you?" He scraped his sleeve across his forehead. "You did it, big guy, you really did. Congratulations."

Loki smiled, but hollowness crept into his stomach as he gradually remembered where he was and what was happening. He pushed his hair back and wiped his face. They were coming.

"Do you want to see her?" Hammer offered.

Something rattled far above them. Everyone looked to the ceiling, but Loki needed only to close his eyes to feel his brother wreaking havoc in the upper floors. Rather than cold panic, however, his nerves steeled. "Prepare the cradle," Loki said. He pushed himself higher up the headboard and groaned. "Just as we discussed."

"But if we remove the Tesseract now--"

"The facility is lost." Loki motioned to someone next to him and was handed a bottle of water. "Only the child matters now. Make sure she's taken care of."

"Okay." Hammer shuffled away. "Okay."

The scientists went back to work. Loki watched as they wheeled the cradle over: it was made of metal and glass, with soft blankets laid out along its bottom, yet more monitors attached to one side. One of the doctors leaned over it and gently placed the cloth-wrapped baby inside. Loki's heart leapt into his throat but he held himself back. She would wait for him.

Hammer punched a sequence into the main computer, and the reactor powered down. The light faded from the lattice of wires and tubes that stretched overhead, and one by one the monitors blinked off, leaving the chamber momentarily in total darkness. Seconds later, the emergency generators kicked in. The monitors and tubes remained dormant, but soft, yellow lights blinked overhead, just enough for everyone to see and work by.

The side port of the reactor opened. Synthia strode toward it, and with thick gloves and a long, metallic catch tool she removed the Tesseract from within. The cube gleamed and hummed as she carried it away from the reactor and settled it carefully in a waiting receptacle mounted on one side of the cradle. Blue light filled the glass enclosure, and as Loki watched, the clothed bundle squirming inside fell happily still.

Loki sighed and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, but he had no choice but to try and rally his strength back to him. Thor was coming--Steve was coming. He had no idea yet how he would face them, but surrender was inconceivable. He licked his lips, still debating over his options, when another gunshot split the air.

Another scientist fell dead, and Synthia turned her gun on the next, shooting her twice in the chest. The remaining men and women screamed and ran for the exit, but Synthia continued to fire until her magazine was emptied. Four more dropped to the ground, and the rest fled into the hallway, some of them clutching wounds. Loki watched without interfering. "Get behind me," he said, only to realize that Hammer was already cowering behind the headboard.

Synthia slid the empty magazine out and loaded a fresh one. Gone were all traces of her skittish shyness as she leveled the gun at Loki and fired again.

Loki tried to call on his magic, but he was depleted, and he managed to only barley slow the bullet's momentum. It pierced his splayed palm and bored into his chest, hitting and cracking his sternum. He didn't cry out. The pain barely registered even as he clutched the bleeding wound. Only anger pulsed through him as he glared Synthia down, waiting for another shot.

"The hell are you doing?" Hammer cried from behind the bed. "Some of those were _your_ scientists!"

"And they'll soon be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s prisoners," said Synthia. She waited a moment longer, but when Loki only continued to stare heatedly back, she lowered the gun. "They have orders to kill themselves to avoid capture regardless. I was only helping the cowardly along."

Loki dug his fingers into his chest, groaning under his breath as he tried to pry the bullet fragments out of his bones. "You," he panted. "You think you can betray me?"

"I know that's not enough to kill you." Synthia slipped the gun into a holster at her waist; it wasn't until then that Loki noticed the combat attire beneath her white lab coat. "S.H.I.E.L.D. can have you for all I care," she said as he pressed several buttons on the side of the cradle. "You promised us domination, and you failed. So it's time to cut HYDRA's losses and move on."

Hammer peered carefully over the top of the bed. "But Schmidt is dead. All your soldiers up there are dead or captured--HYDRA has nothing, now."

Synthia passed her hand over the gun, and Hammer ducked back again. "Margot is dead," she said, with regret that could have passed for sincere. "And her loss is a great one. But the Schmidt line is as strong as ever." She pulled open one side of her lab coat and revealed a row of test tubes bearing a bright blue fluid. "Dr. Yeon's serum is not as elegant as Dr. Erskine's, but she very nearly succeeded. There are others in the world that can finish her work, and I'll have what I really came for. And, of course, there's this."

The cradle hissed, and the receptacle bearing the Tesseract released into her hand. Immediately the light from the cradle faded. Loki gripped the mattress and yanked himself forward, crawling weakly to the end of the bed. "Don't you dare," he hissed.

"With the serum and the Tesseract, HYDRA can be rebuilt," Synthia continued. She stepped back and freed the handgun from its holster again. "The line of Schmidt will rule the earth someday." Her lip curled. "I hope that you'll be able to see it from your prison in heaven, Loki."

"So it was you." Loki coughed as he reached the end of the mattress, but when he tried to stand, his legs gave out and he dropped to the floor. He moaned. "Johanna was your shield-- _you_ are Schmidt's heir."

Synthia curtsied as she backed away. "You finally noticed."

Hammer started to creep out from behind the bed, but a shot from the gun drove him back again. "Don't make me kill you, Hammer," Synthia taunted. "I'd much rather see you rot in prison."

"My child..." Loki coughed as he gripped the bedpost and tried to use it to stand. "My child requires the Tesseract."

Synthia shook her head. "That's a shame," she said, and she turned to leave.

Loki hissed, clawing at his wounded chest. Once he had managed to pry the last chunk of metal loose his body swiftly closed over, and he dragged himself to his feet. "Synthia--"

Synthia whipped around. Her finger curled over the trigger, but before she could pull it, a fresh burst of light poured from the container at her side. The Tesseract's energy swelled within the metal and soared through the cracks, ripping up Synthia's arm and over her head. She screamed, dropping the container and her weapon as white-hot light seared her face and hair. In a panic she fled, through the exit and down the hallway.

As soon as she was gone Loki dropped to all fours and crawled to the Tesseract. He cradled its container against his chest, letting the soothing energy sweep through him. "I knew you had chosen me," he murmured, absorbing what he could from it. It swelled into him, softening the edges of his exhaustion and pain. When he had the strength, he stumbled back to the cradle and fit the receptacle back into place. It filled the cradle again with warmth and light.

"Loki!" Hammer rushed to his side, and was just in time to support him in his fall back to his knees. "Jesus. Are you all right?" He felt out the partially-healed chest wound. "I can't believe it. All this time... damn." He looked to the door. "But I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. will get her too, now, unless she kills herself first."

"I'll kill her," Loki muttered, leaning wearily against Hammer's shoulder. "I'll kill her!"

Something banged ominously from the far end of the hallway. Loki and Hammer both turned to stare, breathlessly waiting. Something was clanging down the stairwell. Cold panic again crept into Loki's heart, and his breath came fast. His time was up.

"Justin." Loki took Hammer's hand in both of his and used what magic he had to reset and repair the shattered bones beneath. "Remain here."

Hammer grimaced and squirmed until his hand was fully healed. "Wait," he said. "Are you going out there? Loki, it's over."

"I must fight." Loki pushed against Hammer's shoulder and at last made it to his feet. He swayed, but pure determination propelled him back to his throne. He yanked free his dark green robes and wrapped himself up. "I will not surrender to Thor, not now or ever. Remain here." His steps were halting as he headed for the door. "Guard the child."

Hammer stood. "Loki, wait," he said. "You're in no condition to fight." He hurried closer as Loki crouched down and retrieved Synthia's handgun. "Come on--you gotta know when to give it a rest. This isn't going to--"

"Justin Hammer." Loki grabbed the hand he had just repaired and pressed Synthia's gun into it. "You will protect my child," he said firmly. "With your life, if necessary. Do you understand?"

Hammer gulped, but as Loki held his gaze, his resolve wavered--or hardened. Perhaps both. His fingers curled around the handle of the weapon, and he nodded. "All right," he said. He took a deep breath. "I understand. Good luck."

Loki let him go, and with a deep breath of his own he continued out of the chamber.

***

Thor smashed open the final door. As the metal sailed into the hallway, Steve stood back and touched his earpiece. "Thor and I have reached level six," he reported. "Levels two and four are secure."

"So are levels one and three," reported Natasha. "We're just getting through level five."

"Acknowledged. Standby." Steve hopped down the last two steps and joined Thor in the doorway. "Ready?" Thor nodded, and together they stepped into the hallway.

The emergency generators did a poor job of lighting the lowest level. The bulbs flickered insipidly, and many of the once sealed doors had released without power to the electronic locks. Steve gazed up and down the line of doors and heard what sounded like pained whimpers and groans coming from one of the rooms. He started forward, Thor at his side, but both stopped when a figure emerged from the far door.

Loki stepped into the hall. He was draped in long, dark robes, hastily clasped around his otherwise bare figure. He looked haggard. His face was visibly pale even in the dim light, his long hair sticking to the sweat on his cheeks, forehead, and neck. Each breath was a deep gasp, and when he pulled the door shut behind him, he wavered on his feet from the effort. With one hand bracing him against the wall, he stared his adversaries down with steady, but pained attention.

"Thor," he said. His lips pulled back in a sneer. "You said you wanted to see me face to face. I am here."

"Loki..." Mjolnir hung loose in Thor's grip as he stared back at his disheveled brother. "What's happened to you?"

Steve's gaze flicked between the blood staining Loki's hands, chest, and, more disturbingly, the insides of his legs. It occurred to him a moment later that Loki's abdomen was strikingly flat. A knot in his chest made it difficult to breathe. "Loki..."

"Well?" Loki's elbow bent more and more as he slumped gradually into the wall at his side. "State your business."

Steve swallowed. "We're here to take you with us, Loki," he said. "You, and the Tesseract. Where is it?"

"Safe." Loki's expression tightened. "You cannot have it."

Thor took a step forward. "Brother, whatever has happened to you...let us end it now. Come with me. There's no need for us to fight."

"I am not leaving," Loki replied. "And if you try to take me, I will kill you."

"You do not have a choice," said Thor, his voice tipping with frustration. "You must return with me to Asgard. Father will be--"

"I have no father!" Loki snarled. "Get out!"

He slapped the wall, and up and down its copper lengths the walls began to twist inward. Metal groaned as it curled, shrinking down like a fist around a soda can. Thor charged. With Mjolnir brandished at his side he flashed down the corridor, but then Loki moved as well in a blur of rippling fabric. Just before collision Thor screeched to a halt and swung his hammer in a smooth arc. Steve tensed, expecting the blow to connect, but Loki was faster than Thor had anticipated. He snatched Thor's wrist with both hands and twisted, putting his back to Thor's chest. Using Thor's own momentum he spun and sent his brother crashing through one of the partially open doors.

Loki dropped to his hand and knees. As he gasped and gagged, Steve approached, shield ready but not poised yet. "Loki," Steve said as he stopped just out of reach. "Have you really thought about what I said?"

Loki leaned back on his heels, his arms stretched in front of him, prostrate and shaking. "If you try to take me from here," he said, "I will kill you, too."

Steve's eyes narrowed. "No, you won't."

Loki stared up at him through his unkempt hair, and in his eyes betrayed the truth--he wouldn't. He attacked regardless, his clawing hands raking down Steve's shield. Steve batted him aside, but before he could form a plan, Thor barreled back into the hallway. His broad bicep caught Loki full in the stomach and together they tumbled through an opposite door an out of sight.

Steve pursued. They had smashed into the server room, with tall black cabinets like monoliths lined in all directions. Loki darted between them on bare feet, weaving back and forth in the maze of electronics with Thor just behind. Steve tried to head them off, but Thor again reached Loki first, and the two of them grappled and cursed in the narrow space.

"I don't want to hurt you," Thor growled, "but I will if I have to, Loki!"

"Then hurt me!" Loki hollered.

Loki's palms lit with incoming magic. A blast of ice struck Thor directly in the chest, and he was thrown into the wall. The impact shattered several concrete bricks, and when Loki fired again, Thor was tossed cleanly through.

People shrieked from within the adjoining room. Thor did not stay in it long; he vaulted again to his feet and charged, throwing Loki up against one of the servers. It cracked with the impact and dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. As Loki and Thor continued to heave each other across the room, Steve investigated the room that they had briefly intruded upon and spotted half a dozen men and women in lab coats cowering within Hammer's suite.

"There are civilians down here," Steve said into his earpiece as gods warred on behind him. "Stark, Romanoff, come and get them, but keep your eyes open. It's not a pretty fight."

"Affirmative," said Natasha.

Steve left the hostages and headed back into the server room, and had to fling himself out of the way of Mjolnir whipping through the open air. He rolled onto his back and watched in frustration as the hammer pounded into Loki's chest and sent him flying through three rows of servers.

Loki smacked against the far wall and dropped like a stone. For several seconds he lay motionless, and then jerked with a sudden intake of breath. When he tried to get his arms beneath him, he couldn't. With a pained groan he slumped onto his side and vomited bile.

Mjolnir snapped back into Thor's hand, but before he could continue, Steve motioned him back. "Wait," he said. "Please. Trust me." Thor set his jaw, but he stepped back.

Steve hurried forward. When Loki finally was able to sit upright Steve was there, cradling him with one arm. "Loki, enough," he said quietly. "It's over."

Loki sagged against Steve's shoulder. "No," he whispered. "No, I cannot..."

"Shh. I know." Mindful of the many ears in his, Steve licked his lips and asked, "Where is she?"

Loki shivered, but he looked about to answer until he heard Thor's boots scuffling closer through the shattered room. With a look of panic his hand shot out, and from each fingertip sprang a dagger of sharpened ice. Three shattered against Thor's armor but two sank into the flesh of his bare arms, and Thor bellowed angrily. As he yanked the shards from his skin, Loki pounced, grabbing Thor by the throat and carrying them both to the floor.

Thor readied Mjolnir, but Steve got there first. He grabbed Loki by the back of his robes and heaved him off his brother, flinging him again into the wall. Loki crumbled but Steve pursed anyway, using the width of his shield to pin Loki up against the concrete bricks. As Loki cursed and wailed Steve swung his fist and winced when Loki jerked with the blow. Still Loki fought, bruising his fingers against the edge of Steve's shield, and Steve had no choice but to hit him again. Finally, thankfully, Loki collapsed, and Steve let his shield drop as he collected battered Loki in his arms and lowered them both to the floor.

"Where is she?" Steve asked again, keeping Loki clasped against his chest in case any more fits of stubbornness followed. "Loki, please." But when he eased Loki back to hear his answer, Loki only drooped into his lap, unconscious.

Thor stepped forward, Mjolnir loose in his hand as he watched the pair from beneath heavy eyelids. "Let me take him," he said.

Steve hesitated, but when Thor fastened Mjolnir to his belt and crouched down, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. He eased Loki into Thor's arms and grimaced at the bloody spectacle he made. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to offer.

"I will take him to the surface," Thor said quietly. "So he can be tended and properly restrained."

"Yes." Steve recalled his wits. "Go ahead. I'll help the others clear out the hostages and see if we can find the Tesseract. We'll be up soon."

Thor nodded, and without another word he pushed to his feet and carried Loki swiftly out of the room.

Steve took a moment longer to catch his breath and stop his hands from shaking. "It's over," he told himself firmly as he pushed to his feet. "It's over."

Out in the hallway, he immediately ran into Tony and Natasha herding the frightened and wounded doctors toward the stairwell. "We're bringing the civilians up," Natasha was reported to Coulson above. "Make sure they're all detained. We're not sure yet which ones are HYDRAs and which are victims."

"Good work, team," said Coulson. "Any sign of the Tesseract?"

"Negative," said Steve. "Stark and I are heading for the reactor chamber. Stand by."

Natasha joined the civilians, and as Steve and Tony headed to the far end of the hall, Tony's mask clanged open and he gave Steve a long look. "Hanging in there, Rogers?" he asked, just lightly enough that Steve could brush his concern aside if he wanted to.

Which he did. "I'm fine," he said. "Let's just finish this."

Steve pried the door open, and squinted into the darkened chamber. Even the emergency lights inside had been doused, leaving only a faint blue glow at the far corner. Steve stepped inside first. Even with the faint light he could just barely make out the outline of Loki's throne in front of the reactor, and the bed strewn with equipment and soiled sheets. Both men winced as they came forward.

"The hell is that _smell_?" Tony grumbled as they scanned the silent room.

Steve's heart pounded. As they continued forward his foot ran into something soft and heavy, and he prodded it with his toe. It was a body. "Stark," he said, "wait, I think--"

A gun fired. Several bullets crushed themselves against Steve's shield, and then the spray veered off, ricocheting off of Tony's armor and the protective covering of his core. Tony's mask clanged shut and he lifted both hands, firing his repulsors into the darkness.

Someone cried out, followed by the sound of a body tumbling through machinery and a sharp, sickening gurgle. When no retaliation followed Steve and Tony hurried forward, tracing wet, ragged breath. With Tony increasing the light from his reactor and repulsors, they at last found and identified their fallen attacker.

Hammer had landed on his back amidst a tangle of wires and tubes. There was blood in his mouth and his hands pawed at his chest, but it took Steve several seconds to realize where and how he was injured; he recognized one of the tubes stretching out from under Hammer's back as the reactor's umbilical. Even in the faint light Steve could make out very dark blood seeping out from underneath him.

"Hammer," Tony said incredulously. His mask opened again and he yanked the gun out of Hammer's hand, casting it aside. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he demanded. "You stupid..."

Hammer quaked between them, but when he tried to speak, only more blood splattered over his lips. His eyes welled with pained and frightened tears as he grasped at Tony's armor. His chest heaved with every futile attempt to breathe, his heels scraped the floor, but all Steve and Tony could do was stare helplessly back as his struggles quickly grew weak. Gagging and panicked, Hammer kept one hand curled violently over Tony's arc reactor as the other went back to pawing at his vest. A quiet sob that might have been a plea split his lips, and then he sagged, gone.

Tony leaned back. Hammer's blood smeared down the front of his reactor as his hand fell, tainting the light red. As Tony sat staring at the body, Steve reached down and gently closed Hammer's eyes. He didn't have the strength to say "I told you so" to a corpse.

A quiet noise rippled out of the darkness beyond, one that spread goose bumps up Steve's back. Abandoning his shield, he pushed to his feet and followed the tiny cry toward a blue glow at the back of the chamber. The closer he drew, the harder his heart beat, until he feared it would pound straight out of him. By the time he recognized the aquarium-shaped apparatus for what it truly was, his steps had grown heavy and his head was spinning dizzily off his shoulders.

Steve leaned over the cradle, and at the first glimpse of its contents, he passed out.


	15. Chapter 15

Steve awoke to the familiar roll of waves that came from being on the carrier. He blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling as he catalogued his faint injuries: a knot on the back of his head, burns below the knees, a few other bumps and scrapes. Nothing serious. It took him nearly a full minute of slow breathing before he remembered why he had blacked out.

Steve jolted upright. A more serious glance around the room showed him he was in the infirmary, dressed in a hospital gown. He yanked off his heart rate monitor and didn't care when it began to wail, but before he could charge out of the room, Coulson appeared in the doorway.

"Captain." He slipped past Steve and turned off the protesting equipment. "Are you all right?"

"What happened?" Steve asked urgently. "Where's Loki? Where's--"

"Calm down," said Coulson, his hands raised and placating. "Everything's fine. Loki is in holding. We all only just got back." He lowered his hands. "Now, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Steve said automatically. "Sir, where's Director Fury? I need to see him immediately."

"And he's anxious to see you," said Coulson with a bit of a wince. He reached behind a curtain and tossed Steve a T-shirt and some sweats. "Let's go."

Steve followed Coulson through the carrier, but it wasn't the command room they were headed toward: it was the labs in the back. Steve gulped and did his best to rally his strength as they passed through a secure door into the medical science lab. Fury, Tony, Natasha, and Clint were already at the center of the room, circling a familiar-looking basin made of metal and glass. Steve's stomach immediately roiled and he felt faint all over again.

"Look at it," Clint was saying. "That is not a human baby, okay? Can you think of anything else down there that wasn't human? We all saw what he looked like when Thor brought him up. Some serious shit went down in there."

"I am not arguing _that_ ," said Fury. "But I don't really give a shit right now. What I want to know is can we get the cube out of it?"

Steve and Coulson joined them, and everyone looked up. "Captain," Fury greeted with a heave of his shoulders. "Nice of you to join us."

"I'm sorry, sir," Steve said automatically.

"Are you all right?" asked Natasha. "You still look pale."

"I'm fine."

"Good," said Fury. "Then hopefully you can shed some light on... _this._ "

He gestured to the cradle, and with a gulp, Steve came forward. He leaned over the glowing device and took his second look of his baby daughter.

The child was wrapped in thin blankets, only her head and two tiny hands visible. Her _blue_ head and hands. Her skin was a pale, almost periwinkle blue, and across her broad, bald head and round cheekbones it pinched into faint markings that glowed just as Loki's had when connected to the Tesseract. She had no proper ears, only ridges around the cartilage flaps where human ears would be. Her fingers were long and knobby, and when her eyes opened to thin slivers, Steve could see only iridescent white gleaming behind her eyelids.

Steve's knees felt weak. He stared down at the chubby, blue child and thought he had to be dreaming. Emotion thick and fierce welled in his chest, making each breath harder to catch than the last. When everyone continued speaking around him, he accomplished the impossible by not showing any sign of it.

"You found it in the reactor chamber," said Fury. "Remember? With Justin Hammer?" With the reminder Steve glanced to Tony, whose eyes were downcast, but then Fury kept talking and there was no time to discuss it. "We're still trying to figure out where it came from and what to do with it."

" _Someone_ gave birth in that room," said Natasha. "If not Loki, who? We know that he can take the form of a woman, can't he?"

Everyone looked to Steve. He sank onto a nearby stool. "It's Loki's child," he said distantly. "He was trying to protect her from us."

Fury sighed. "Whatever the case, what matters now is, _Stark_ \--" he glared at Tony "--can we or can we not separate it from the cube?"

Tony shook his head. "Do I look like an alien pediatrician? I don't know. But my guess is...no." He watched the cradle with a strange, almost nostalgic look. "The baby's at least eleven pounds, but the doc that took a look at her said she seemed underweight to him. This thing--" he tapped the cradle "--was clearly designed to keep feeding the Tesseract's energy into her. I'm worried that if we separate her from it, just like that, it could kill her."

Steve's chest constricted. "We can't separate her," he said immediately.

Fury made a face. "Look, I don't like the idea of hurting babies any more than all of you, but we are talking about a baby sucking on the most powerful energy source we've ever seen. We can't just let it continue."

"If Loki _with_ the Tesseract was this powerful, there's no telling how powerful a child raised by it would be," agreed Natasha quietly.

"Thor plans to take Loki with him back to Asgard," said Coulson, muddling Steve's thoughts even further. "Can we not just let them handle it?"

"I said he could have Loki, sure," said Fury. "And the kid. But I never said we were giving the cube back." He smirked at Steve. "Finders, keepers."

Steve tasted bile at the back of his throat. "We can't do anything that might hurt this child," he insisted. "We don't know anything about her yet. Not her physiology, not what it means that she can feed off that thing..." He rubbed his mouth. "And I'm not so sure about letting Asgard have her, either."

"Why?" asked Coulson. 

"Because, she..." Steve hated lying. His skin crawled as he looked to each patiently staring face. "We don't know anything about Asgard," he said. "If Loki's going back as a prisoner, there's no telling what will happen to this baby. Whoever her father...mother...is, she's innocent. I'm not going to just hand her over without knowing what Thor plans to do with her."

"He's right," said Tony. He flashed Steve a sympathetic look. "I don't like it, either. I mean, she's blue, for starters. How do we know that Asgard isn't like...Sparta? When it comes to blue?"

At least everyone staring at Tony was easier than them staring at Steve. Natasha especially fixed him with an irritated look. "I really don't think it's up to us to decide," she said. "This baby doesn't belong here."

"She was born here," Steve continued. "That makes her an American citizen, doesn't it? She has rights that include _not_ shipping her off to God-knows-where as a prisoner."

"So now she's Loki's anchor baby?" Clint said with a raised eyebrow.

Suspicion crept into the lines around Fury's mouth as he watched Steve. "Even if that were the case, you know citizen law only applies to _humans_ , Cap."

"Hey," said Tony. "She's human _ish_."

Steve shook his head. He felt as if ice was forming under his skin and he couldn't keep it in any longer. "She's half human," he said. "You can check her blood if you have to, against mine. Half her DNA is mine."

Everyone stared. Fury's eye narrowed and Coulson leaned slowly back. "Wait," said Natasha. "They made this thing using your DNA?"

"They did have all those fancy geneticists," said Clint.

"But how did they get a sample of Captain Rogers' DNA?"

Tony cleared throat. "Through his penis, I'm guessing."

Natasha glared at him. "Stark."

"No." Steve pushed to his feet again. It was surreal, facing the room with their confused and wary stares, but his hand didn't shake as he set it on the edge of the cradle. "No, he's right," he said with greater confidence that he'd thought possible. "This is my daughter. In every sense." He lowered his eyes to the baby sleeping peacefully inside. "Made the old fashioned way."

After several painful beats of silence, Fury said, "Captain. Come with me."

Steve followed him out of the lab. They had only made it far enough to be out of earshot of any wandering crewman when Fury stopped and turned on Steve with intimidating, almost fatherly disapproval. "How long have you known about this?" he asked.

"Since the night after Loki attacked the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, sir," Steve replied precisely. "Loki told me at the same time when he revealed he was really Lori."

Steve could see the anger boiling just beneath Fury's surface. "And you chose not to tell me, _why_?"

"I was afraid that you wouldn't let me stay on the team," Steve said honestly. "I was compromised. But I couldn't risk not being there when--"

"Those decisions are for _me_ to make, not you," Fury interrupted sternly. "Who else knew about this?"

A door opened and then closed behind them, and a flick of Fury's eye, combined with the soft tread of his particular shoes, let Steve know who it was without looking. "Just me and Mr. Stark," he replied. But when Fury continued to stare, he added, "And Dr. Foster. But it was my decision to withhold the information, sir. Please don't--"

"That decision is _also_ for me to make." Fury leaned back and took his time looking Steve over. "You realize what this amounts to, don't you, Cap?"

Steve gathered himself up. "I understand and accept the consequences of my actions, sir," he said. "But I do want you to know that I didn't hide this from you for any reason other than the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D. and this country. I just wanted to handle it myself. And if I can say so..." He managed not to glance back when he heard Coulson stop just behind him. "...I did bring Loki in, with minimal S.H.I.E.L.D. casualties. I have never forgotten which side I'm on."

Fury again took a long time in gauging Steve, and at last held out his hand. "Give me your ID card."

Steve did so. "Sir?"

"I'm revoking your access," Fury said precisely. "And demoting you off my team, until there's been an investigation. Agent Hill will want to speak to you as well."

Steve squared his shoulders in acceptance. "Yes, sir."

"You're a civilian until further notice," Fury continued. "Which means you're limited to your quarters and the mess hall. You are not allowed on deck, in the armory, or any of the labs unless you have a medical emergency."

"Sir." Steve shifted on his feet. "You have to at least let me into the med-lab."

"Excuse me," Fury said pointedly. "But you're not in any position to negotiate."

"That child is my daughter--I'm her father. I have the right to be with her."

Fury took a challenging step forward. "We are on _my_ carrier. You don't have any rights here, Cap."

"Then you can take me to the brig," Steve persisted. "Because I refuse to go anywhere else without seeing her first."

They stared each other down, until at last Fury snorted and leaned back. "I can't let you anywhere near the brig, either," he said. "So all right. You have access to med-lab." He pointed with Steve's own ID card. "But if I get even an inkling that you're trying to do anything to that cube, I will have you put down, do you understand, Rogers?"

Steve burned with the suggestion that Fury thought him capable of that, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You're also not allowed on E Deck," Fury continued. "Go anywhere near the brig and you're off this ship for good. Understand _that_?"

"Yes, sir."

Fury sighed heavily. "Good." He waved the ID card. "You can have this back once I have your new access programmed in. Now get out of here."

Without wasting time with any more formalities, Steve turned on his heel and headed back for the lab. On his way he winced at the conversation going on behind him.

"The hell is going on here, Coulson? Are you or are you _not_ his handler?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know."

"I ought to have your badge for this, too, you know. If things had gone less perfect, I would. You get me, Agent?"

"Yes, sir."

At the door to the lab, Steve had to wait for Tony to spot him and come over in order to get in. "Sorry about that," Tony said as they moved back to the cradle together. "Outing you like I did."

"No, you were right." Steve rubbed his weary eyes. "I had to tell them anyway."

Clint and Natasha were standing close together, speaking in hushed tones. They stopped when Steve approached and regarded him with mixed looks. Clint started to say something, but Natasha quickly silenced him, and together they left the lab without a word.

Steve leaned over the cradle again. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel, staring down at his other-worldly daughter. He wasn't even sure what he _did_. His chest was several sizes too small and it was squeezing his throat free. His mouth was dry. He tried to lick his lips but it didn't seem to help. "I'm a father," he said quietly.

Tony glanced between him and the baby. "Yeah." When he saw that Steve was reaching into the cradle, he tensed. "Hey, careful."

"It's okay," said Steve. "It won't hurt me."

He slipped his hands carefully under the little bundle. He had only held a baby once before, as a young boy visiting a distant cousin, but he remembered well enough to support her head and spine as he lifted her into his arms. As a newborn she was larger than most, but to Steve she weighed almost nothing, and as Steve cradled her against his chest he was struck by just how delicate she was. It was difficult for him to imagine that something so small and helpless had been born from a rampaging god and battle-hardened soldier. He brushed the markings covering her forehead and felt his skin prickling.

"Loki wanted to raise her to be a weapon," Steve said. He nudged her tiny fist with his fingertip and watched her tap back, barely in control of her new limbs. "And Thor said that the giants are enemies of Asgard. If Loki was cast out as a traitor, who can say what they'll do to his daughter? Not just a giant, but a half-breed." His eyes narrowed. "A half-human."

"That baby's not going anywhere," Tony assured him. "But I do think it'll be better for everyone if we can find a way to wean her off the Tesseract somehow. Trouble's going to follow that thing wherever it goes."

"You're right." Steve watched, frowning, as the light gradually faded out of the child's markings. He held her close, but as her skin grew dull she began to squirm, her mouth working as if wanting to suckle. With a pang in his chest, Steve lowered her back into the cradle. The sight of the Tesseract soothing her gave him a chill. "It must be a tough life," he said, "being dependent on something like that."

He looked to Tony, who offered up a thin, wry smile. "Yeah," Tony said.

***

When Loki woke, it was to a firm hand clasped around his forearm. Five sweaty fingers held him still as soft fabric was wrapped around his bare wrist. With each circling, Loki felt the color draining from the world. Aches and pains rippled to life under his skin, none more so than deep within his abdomen and hips. His tender, Asgardian flesh darkened to Jotun blue. All around him the air grew hot and dry, wearing thin, making it difficult to breathe. Loki licked the sweat off his upper lip.

"What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely.

The winding paused, but only for a moment. The fabric jerked tight, and then Loki's other arm was lifted up to be bound. "I am binding you," said Thor, "from doing magic."

Loki tried to laugh but choked on it. With weak coughs and sputters he pressed his cheek to the stiff mattress beneath him. "You do not know how to bind magic."

"Father taught me, in preparation for coming here."

Loki quieted. The grip on his arm was not harsh, but he knew that it would be if he struggled, so he did not. When the last wrap had been made and the fabric tied, Loki felt the world go silent. He took in several deep breaths as if he could fill himself with the familiar vibrations, but it was as if he had fallen again into the vacuum of space, with no gravity to guide him. It was dizzying and frightening, so he turned his senses inward to give himself focus.

He was stretched out on a thin, hard mattress. The room smelled of wet metal and soap--he had been washed. His body was still damp, as was his hair, which had been cut to shoulder length and was clinging to his neck. He was naked and covered in a thick, clean blanket. He was a well-tended prisoner.

And Thor was beside him. His movements were slow as he lowered Loki's arm to the mattress and slipped it beneath the blanket. Loki could tell that he was no longer in his armor, but he did not bother to look for himself. The overhead lighting blaring through his closed eyelids was already sharp enough that he didn't care to open them.

"Where am I?" Loki asked.

"With S.H.I.E.L.D.," said Thor. "As their captive."

Loki was too numbed by the dead world around him to feel disappointment over his loss, however he thought he ought to. "Where is the child?"

"...She is safe."

"Take me to her."

"You know I cannot."

Loki drew his arms and legs in closer to his chest. "Then bring her here," he said. "I must see her."

Thor sighed. "She is still in the arms of the Tesseract. I cannot risk bringing it here, either."

Loki had known that Thor would say so, but his body still slowly clenched. "Where is Steven?" he asked instead. "Bring _him_ to me."

"Loki." Thor touched Loki's shoulder, but relented when Loki jerked away from him. "Steve Rogers was with the healers last I heard. He is yet unconscious."

"What?" Loki finally opened his eyes and hissed with the sting of the lights. He shielded his face with his hand. "What happened to him?" he demanded as he tried to remember the last crazed moments inside the facility. "Is he well?"

"I do not know," said Thor. "But I think he will recover. He was not badly injured."

Loki relaxed again, if only minutely. "Then go rouse him, and tell him to come to me. I...." He hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice had lowered. "I need him."

"When he awakens, I will tell him."

Both fell quiet again. Loki could feel Thor's eyes on him, and as the seconds ticked by he grew more and more restless. He didn't want to, but he looked up into Thor's face. The expression he found there was made of everything he had expected: frustration, confusion, grief. Pity and disgust. It made him ill, and he cowered beneath Thor with weary panic. If he had had the strength he would have fled, or else ripped the flesh from Thor's skull, gouged out his eyes--anything to keep Thor from looking at him like that.

As miserable as he was, his voice was dull when he asked, "What will you do with me?"

Thor frowned. "Once the human device is ready, I will take you back to Asgard with me," he said. "To receive father's judgment."

"Judgment." Loki let his gaze fall to the far wall, though the iron boundary of his cell was not an easier view. "You mean execution."

"Father will be merciful," Thor said quickly. "He knows how painful it was for you, finding out..."

Loki interrupted with a bitter chuckle. "Father has no idea what I have been through," he muttered.

Thor fidgeted uncomfortably. "It has been painful for all of us," he said, anger biting at his tongue. "Loki, you had me killed. You betrayed Asgard, our friends--you almost destroyed an entire race of people!"

Loki curled tighter beneath the blankets. "So what?"

"' _So?_ '" Thor grabbed him by the shoulder, and this time did not let go when Loki tried to squirm away. "Is that all you have to say for yourself? After what you've done, the people you've harmed!"

"Do you really expect any less from me?" Loki said. "Knowing now what I am?"

Thor trembled, the blanket twisting between his fingers. With effort, he was able to restrain his temper. "It does not matter to me what you are," he said. "You are still my brother."

The words lit Loki's heart on fire. He clutched his arms against his chest as he tried again to edge away. "Liar."

"It does not matter to me or to anyone who loves you," Thor repeated. "You should have told me the truth, Loki. How many times did I tell you to abandon your lying ways? How many times did Father, and Heimdall, and everyone else? If you had come to us with truth, we would have accepted you."

"How dare you lecture me on truth," Loki hissed, "when it was Odin himself that lied to me in the first place!"

"Only to protect you. His lies, at least, were well meant."

Loki shook his head against the mattress. "Even that alone is a lie."

"And what have your lies won you?" Thor countered. "You have lost. Now all the realms will know you as a traitor and a coward." His face twisted. "Are you proud of what you've become? A god of only deceit, a bearer of human children?"

Loki saw red. He twisted, one hand snagging Thor's arm for leverage as the other aimed for Thor's throat. He was too weak and too slow to hit his mark. Before he even came close, Thor grabbed his bound wrist and forced it down to his chest, pinning him. Loki thrashed and kicked long after it became obvious he had no chance of breaking free.

"Speak one word about my child and I'll kill you!" he raved. "I'll kill all of you! I will bring Ragnarok to all of Asgard! Release me!" Every jerk and buck reminded his body of strain too recently endured, and his struggles grew weak. "Release me!" he cried, his voice thick and strangled. "Don't...do not touch me. Do not look at me!"

He sank into the mattress as Thor finally let him go. Choking, he rolled onto his stomach and clutched the blanket tightly over him. He could feel his brother pitying him and it made his stomach clench until he nearly vomited. It took several minutes beneath Thor's unrelenting silence, but at last Loki rallied himself enough to speak.

"You say that had I come to you with the truth, you would have accepted me," he said. "But I know you, brother. Four days on Midgard did not change a thousand years of father's teachings." Though his arms shook, Loki forced them to bear his weight as he pushed himself up. The blanket slipped off his shoulders and revealed his blue, blemished form. "I disgust you. Admit it--it all made sense when father told you the truth, didn't it? All those years of being so much less than I ought, and now we know why. Because I was never one of you." He glared straight at Thor and tasted bile in his throat. "And I will never go back, unless it is to tear Asgard stone by stone into oblivion. I hate you!" Hot tears welled in his eyes and flowed down his Jotun seams. "I despise all of you!"

Thor stared back at him, his face red and nostrils flared. He had never been fully in control of his emotions, and Loki could see each one flaring to his surface like sun spots. Loki waited. He felt as if his joints were unraveling, and at any moment he could collapse into Thor's arms. With breath held he teetered anxiously on the brink, every bone aching, waiting for the acceptance that would render all his rage meaningless, or the scorn that would break him.

But Thor held himself in. His eyes were wet as he rubbed his mouth and then pushed to his feet. "By sunset, we will return to Asgard," he said, his voice rough. "You should...you should rest. The mortal Bifrost is not a gentle road."

He turned to leave. His turned back was answer enough, and Loki sank to the bed, numb. Before Thor could leave, however, Loki licked his lips and asked, "Where is Justin Hammer?"

"He is dead," said Thor. "Killed by the Iron Man."

Loki stiffened. "The Iron Man," he repeated in a whisper.

"Yes." Thor hesitated at the door a moment longer. "Do you ever wish that we could go back through time, Loki?" he asked, but when a full minute had passed with no answer, he gave up waiting and was let out.

Loki flinched at the sound of the door clanging shut. As he drew the blanket over him, a shudder ran the length of his body. Thor's declaration sank into the pit of his stomach like poison, and he gagged, overcome. He thought of Hammer's heart pounding beneath his hand, of his face upturned, bitter and vulnerable in the dark of a hotel room. He thought of himself dying at Thor's hands and the agony that would accompany it--that did accompany Thor's turned back. He could not think of being abandoned to a worse fate.

Loki pressed his face into the mattress and sobbed.

***

Doctors came and went. Steve did not leave the cradle's side as each took the baby's measurements, performed their tests, and asked their questions. By the fourth, word had finally gotten around and they stopped asking who the father was. Steve was tested as well. They took his blood and asked him a long list of questions, most uncomfortably when and how he and Loki had slept together. He answered every one truthfully and was grateful that Tony was gone by then. 

The child spent the entire time asleep. Even as they prodded and handled her with their protective gloves, even when tiny needles pierced her blue skin, she barely stirred except to make thin, sleepy murmurs. Steve couldn't take his eyes off her. After hours of rampaging emotion he finally reached a place of calm, and smiled with tired admiration at five miniature fingers curled over his pinky.

At one point, Coulson visited. Steve offered his apologies as quickly and sincerely as possible. "I never meant to get you in trouble," he said. "I just...didn't know how to..."

"I don't know what I would have done in your situation, either," said Coulson. "But, on the other hand." He fixed Steve with a dry smile. "I would have used protection."

Steve heaved a sigh. "Yeah. Consider that lesson learned, sir."

The door opened, and Thor and Jane stepped inside, hand in hand. Steve immediately straightened, and could not help a prickle of apprehension as they approached the cradle. "I want to see the child," said Thor.

Steve kept both hands against the edge of the cradle as he leaned back. "She's right here."

Thor let go of Jane, and she stood back as he stopped across from Steve. His face as he stared down at the squirming baby was unreadable, but his eyes were red with emotion, and he swallowed hard. "Can I hold her?" he asked quietly.

Steve took in a slow breath. "Yes. Be careful."

"Of course."

Thor leaned down and with great tenderness lifted the infant out of her cradle. She looked even smaller resting in his broad arms. Steve looked on, surging with over-protective instinct, but it became clear to him very quickly that Thor meant no harm.

"She's so small," Thor murmured, his eyes dim.

"She's eleven pounds, so I heard," said Coulson. "On the large end for a newborn, actually."

Jane smiled as she moved up beside Thor. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

When Thor didn't immediately agree, Steve's eyes narrowed once more. His hands flexed on the edge of the cradle. "What's going to happen to her if she goes with you to Asgard?" Steve asked. He had been trying to keep his tone neutral, but judging by the sharp look Thor sent him, he failed.

"You think that I would let anything 'happen' to her?" Thor said defensively.

"She's from a race your people are at war with, as I understand," said Steve.

"She is my niece." Thor's jaw worked in frustration. "I know not what lies my brother told you during his seductions, but Asgardians are not so cold-hearted as to harm their own kin."

They stared at each other for several tense beats, and then Steve held out his hands. "I'd like her back, please."

Thor grimaced. "You do not believe me."

"I do. But I'd still like her back."

Thor eased the child into Steve's arms, and immediately Steve's apprehension eased. Watching her wriggle closer to his chest solidified the decision already inside him. "When you take Loki back to Asgard, she's staying here," he said. "I don't know what really happened to Loki there, or what will happen to him or this baby if they return, but at least if she's here I know she's safe. She's as much my daughter as his, even if..." He thought of the chamber and winced. "...I didn't go through what he did, to have her."

Thor looked like he was trying to work up anger and failing. "I would not risk an infant traveling the Bifrost regardless," he said. "Not in its current state. But the Tesseract--"

"The Tesseract stays, too," Steve said firmly. "At least until we know we can separate it from my daughter without hurting her." He stroked the gradually dimming illumination across her forehead. "Mr. Stark says he has a few ideas he's going to work on."

Thor was still uneasy, and when his hand strayed from his side, Jane was quick to take it. "Very well."

The baby began to squirm, and with a heavy heart Steve returned her to her cradle. As he rested back on his stool he couldn't help but ask, "What _will_ happen to Loki in Asgard?"

"It will be our father's decision," said Thor. "I asked him, when it became clear that Jane would succeed in bringing me here, but he would not share his mind with me." He drew himself up. "But he is still my brother, and I have no intention of seeing him executed."

"Prison, then." It was the best Steve could hope for, but he couldn't say he felt any better. "Can I..." He shook his head. "Can we visit?" he asked. "Once the baby is old enough or if we find another way? I know Loki will want to see her, and I..."

He faltered, and was grateful when Thor said, "Yes, of course. I'll do everything in my power."

"Thank you." 

Steve let his breath out and was surprised by the return of all his earlier emotions. Thankfully, he was able to catch Jane's eye, and she nodded. "Let's go," she suggested to Thor. "We can get something to eat, and then maybe a nap? I know you haven't slept since you got here."

Thor nodded vaguely, and cast one more lingering look at the baby before turning to go. As soon as they were gone Steve felt the strength rush out of him. He leaned over his knees, rubbing his face with both hands. He had no idea who or what to believe; all he knew was that within a few hours' time, everything would be over. Loki would be gone, far beyond his reach, back in the hands of a family he blamed for his downfall. Despite all his crimes and lies, Steve ached for him.

Coulson's hand came down on his shoulder, and with a flinch Steve looked up at him. "Agent Coulson," he said urgently. "You have to let me see Loki before they go."

"I can't," Coulson replied. "I'm sorry."

"I have to speak to him," Steve insisted. "We don't have any idea what will happen to him--I might never see him again, and he--" He choked, and needed a moment to gather his composure. "He might never see this child again. Please, let me see him just one more time."

Coulson's expression was sympathetic, and when he urged Steve to his feet, it seemed encouraging. Then he said, "No, Rogers. I'm sorry. I think you should go back to your quarters and get some sleep." He pulled Steve's ID card out of his jacket and handed it over. "Please."

Steve accepted the card. He looked to the baby and then back to Coulson, silently pleading, but Coulson only motioned toward the exit. Helpless, Steve nodded and left the lab.

***

Loki didn't sleep so much as fall unconscious again. He did not know how much time passed. His brain seethed with fever dreams, each one clawing at his memories, making them bleed. He tossed beneath the blanket and whimpered as his body throbbed. He was terrified. Somewhere far beyond the stars, his father--Odin--was waiting for him. The dread drew him tight as a coiled spring.

Something tickled the edges of his senses. He knew it could not be magic with Thor's binding cords around his wrists, but it was enough to make him open his eyes. A sour taste filled his mouth when he saw his visitor, Tony Stark, watching him through the glass.

"They told me you can't use your magic now," said Tony through a speaker mounted next to the viewing glass. "That true?"

Loki sat up and displayed the white fabric crossing his wrists. "You are quite safe from me, Tony Stark," he said coldly.

"Good." He took a step closer, his hands slipping into his pockets, the very picture of forced ease. "Because I have a few questions for you."

Loki stared straight back at him. "I will answer."

"Why was it me?" Tony asked. "Whenever you needed to take control of someone's mind, it was always me. Why?"

Loki tipped his head back against the wall. "Because you are a vain, dull-witted fool who is easy to make a slave of," he replied.

Tony smirked and shook his head. "No, I think it was something else." He tapped his chest, where the light of the arc reactor was just barely visible through his button-down shirt. "It was this, wasn't it? Something about this made it easier for you to pick me than Foster, or Rhodey." When Loki didn't answer, he continued. "I know the energy it gives off is similar to the Tesseract. I must have lit up like a beacon for you. You told Rogers that I was the reason you came to the club that night, right? I saw you eyeing it even then."

Loki pushed to his feet, dragging the blanket with him to wrap around his waist. "You heard our conversation?"

"Yeah." Tony frowned. "You really did a number on that kid, you know."

Loki finished tying off the blanket and stepped forward. "You are correct," he said, giving Tony what he wanted in order to avoid the subject of Steve. "Your reactor has a similar smell to the Tesseract. It has fooled me once or twice, I'll admit."

"How similar?" Tony pressed.

"What does it matter?"

"It's important." Tony straightened. "Especially if I'm going to try and swap out the Tesseract for an arc reactor, in order to keep your baby alive."

Loki stopped just in front of him. "What did you say?"

"Ideally, I want to wean her off it entirely," said Tony. "It's no picnic, living your life dependent on technology." He fingered the edge of his reactor. "Rogers doesn't want that for her, and if you gave a crap about her, neither would you."

Loki pressed both palms to the glass. "Don't you dare."

"I have a few different ideas already," Tony continued. "But I know I can't just plug the poor thing into a socket somewhere. Like we learned from making the bridging device, the resonance has to be precise. So I'm asking." His voice lowered seriously. "Is the arc reactor similar enough to the Tesseract that she'll be able to feed on it?"

Loki's eyes lowered to the reactor light bleeding through Tony's shirt. He could no longer smell its telltale energy, but he remembered its taste at the tip of his tongue. "Perhaps," he said enigmatically. "Unfortunately, I never took the opportunity to try for myself." His gaze flicked back to Tony's. "Now. You will answer a question of mine."

"You didn't really answer _my_ question," said Tony.

Loki's fingers curled against the glass. "Did you kill Justin Hammer?"

Tony leaned back. He tried to raise his chin, to answer without inflection or emotion, but Loki could see the muscles tighten guiltily in his throat. "He shot at me first. He should have known better."

Loki quivered with anger, leaning forward until his forehead pressed into the viewing window. "He was no threat to you."

"People have died because of him," said Tony. "And that almost included me once or twice." He shifted uncomfortably. "I wanted to bring him in alive, really, but I didn't have a choice. It's not my fault he pulled a gun on us."

His words only incensed Loki further. Loki hunched his shoulders, his body tense as if he could pounce through the glass and claim the vengeance he should have during his first encounter with Tony Stark. But as he stewed helplessly in his containment, he again felt a tingle at the back of his mind, like frail music. His senses were dulled, but instinct told him that he was not alone.

The hairs rose on the back of Loki's neck. "Help me," he whispered into the air. His breath steamed on the glass and he closed his eyes, concentrating. "Help me."

Tony leaned closer. "What?"

Something sparked behind Loki's closed eyelids, and when he opened his eyes, a tiny flash of light appeared on each of his wrists. The fabric seared through, and Thor's bindings sloughed off as easily as torn paper. As soon as they broke contact with his skin, Loki's sense flared to their utmost, and he felt the glowing presence of the Tesseract. Though held in captivity aboard the carrier somewhere, its energy had sought him out.

When Tony realized what had happened he reeled back. He reached for an emergency button behind him. Loki slapped his palm flat to the glass. "Let me now answer your question," he sneered.

The energy of the arc reactor was indeed familiar. Having spent almost three months in the Tesseract's company he had well learned how to absorb such ancient magic, and with a pull of the threads Tony was jerked chest-first into the glass. Loki positioned his hands over the reactor, and it shone brilliantly as its energy was leeched out of it.

Tony struggled and shouted, but even with his magic only partially restored Loki had no trouble locating and destroying the security cameras with flares of ice. When he had drunk his fill--leaving enough that Tony would not simply expire--he stopped and turned his hands on the cell exit. Though not strong enough to rip the door off with his bare hands, his ice filling into the hinges and locks did the job.

Tony fled for the door, gripping his chest. Loki caught up to him long before, and with his hand around Tony's throat he thrust his back to the cell glass. "I promised Justin Hammer that you would bleed," Loki growled, pressing Tony upward until his feet dangled above the floor. "And you will. Once I have the Tesseract back, I will return for you, and peel your flesh off inch by inch. I will rip your false heart straight out of you!"

Tony choked and kicked, and though Loki would have taken great pleasure in simply killing him then, the sirens overhead began to wail. With a curse Loki reeled his arm back and smashed Tony up against the glass until he fell unconscious. From there all it took was a simple spell learned ages ago to swap their clothes and appearances. As Tony slumped to the floor, a naked, blue giant, Loki smoothed his dress shirt and rough whiskers. Just in time for the guards to burst in with guns drawn.

"Mr. Stark!" The men hurried forward and ushered Loki out of the way of their unconscious prisoner. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"I'm fine," said Loki. "He just caught me by surprise, that's all. But you might want to get Thor back in here, make sure those bindings stick this time."

"Yes, sir."

As the guards dragged Tony into the cell, Loki pinned the ID to his lapel and hurried out of the brig.

***

Steve was in bed, trying hopelessly to sleep, when someone knocked on the door to his quarters. "Come in!" he called.

" _Steve_ ," Jane sing-songed.

Steve sighed and grabbed his ID card off the table. He let her in. "Sorry."

"You'll remember eventually," she teased. Once the door was closed behind her, however, she grew quickly serious. "How're you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess." Steve sat down on the bed, and she joined him. He glanced to the clock. "It's after two already. In a few more hours..."

"I know." Jane squeezed his shoulder. "That's why I wanted to check up on you."

Steve wasn't sure he was up to being checked up on, either. "Where's Thor?" he asked. "I never got the chance to congratulate you. I know you've been waiting to see him for a long time."

Jane blushed, but her smile was grim. "He's asleep," she said. "He's still really upset about the whole thing, of course." She fidgeted. "Steve, I know you have your reasons not to trust him, but he's a good man who's been through a lot. He really does love his brother."

"I know," Steve admitted. "I do know that." He leaned over his knees and rubbed his eyes with both hands. "But between his version and Loki's, I don't know what to believe. And what I believe doesn't even matter, because either way he's a killer and a criminal. Prison there, prison here--it's all the same." He folded his hands and leaned into them. "There's nothing I can do, now. I just feel like..."

"Like what?" Jane prompted gently.

"Like I've failed." Emotion stung his eyes again, but he didn't try to wipe it away. "I feel like he was waiting for me to do something. If I had said the right thing, done the right thing, made a different choice somehow...I could have stopped him. I could have _saved_ him." His breath was hard against the backs of his knuckles. "I was the only one who could have fixed all this, and I failed."

Jane leaned in closer, but before she could offer any words of encouragement, he went on. "Of course, in my mind, I know that's not true. My brain keeps telling me that there was never anything I could have done. I know--I _know_ he's done this to himself, even if that doesn't stop me from feeling this way." He swallowed. "And I also know that he's not going to stop."

"But we have him now," Jane said quietly. "Thor's taking him home. There's not much he can do anymore."

"No." Steve shook his head. "He still won't stop. He'll get out. Someone will help him escape. He'll keep fighting and lying and hurting people, until we don't have a choice anymore." He stared fixedly at the far end of the room. "We'll have to kill him."

"Steve..."

"If only I understood," Steve went on. "If I knew what was driving him so badly, maybe I could tell him..." He sighed and shook his head. "And there I go again. Welcome to the last three hours."

"It's not your fault," Jane told him, and though he had tried telling himself that all morning, it did feel better coming from someone else. "You're right--Loki chose this. Whatever happened to him before, no one forced him to lie to you, or to join HYDRA, or anything else he's done." She went to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but he was so much broader than her that she only managed one. "And I know it's not nearly the same, but I learned a long time ago that you can't fix other people's problems for them, let alone change them. You just have to be there for them as much as you can and hope they figure it out."

"I know," Steve said, leaning into her. "I know. I just don't think that's going to happen."

They were quiet for a long moment, Jane's steady presence a warm and welcome comfort. Just when Steve though he had regain clarity, the carrier's alarms screamed from down the hall.

Steve groaned. "I told you so," he said tiredly. He urged Jane off and pushed to his feet.

"Steve--wait." Jane followed him. "You're not allowed to--"

"I'm not just going to sit back and do nothing," Steve said, pulling his boots on. "If it is Loki, I'm still the only one who can stop him." He grimaced. "Or try to."

A moment later, the sirens turned off again. Steve and Jane both stared into the ceiling, breathless and waiting, but whatever emergency seemed to have passed. "Maybe it was a false alarm," Jane suggested.

"I'm not taking that risk," said Steve.

He headed for the door, but Jane beat him to it. "Just hold on a second," she said. "If it was a fluke or a test, I don't want you getting yourself in trouble over nothing. Wait here for a few minutes, and I'll go find out what happened and let you know. Okay?"

Steve frowned. His gut told him that something was wrong and he wanted to be there for it, whatever it was, but he backed down. "Okay. I'll wait here."

"Okay," Jane repeated. "I'll be quick." She let herself out and disappeared down the hall.

Steve sat back down on the bed, and tapped his heel anxiously as he waited for news. He checked his phone and found nothing. Restlessness started to get the better of him. He could imagine any number horrible scenarios taking place, and when he couldn't take it any longer, he moved to the door. As soon as he opened it, Tony turned the corner and ran straight for him.

"Mr. Stark?" Steve backed into the room to let Tony in. "Are you all right?"

Tony slammed the door behind him and took a quick glance around the room. "Are you alone?" he asked hurriedly.

"Yes, but--"

Tony leapt at him. His arms circled Steve's neck, and Steve had no time to push him off before wide lips were pressed to his. The scratch of Tony's whiskers quickly faded in favor of a smooth, narrow chin, and Steve stumbled backward beneath the pressure of a suddenly taller body.

"Loki!" Steve's arms went immediately around Loki's waist, as much to keep him from escaping as anything else. "How did you--"

Loki silenced him with another kiss. His hands were firm and almost pawing against Steve's back as he clutched them together. "Where is she?" he asked, his breath hissing against Steve's lips. "Where is she?"

"Loki." Steve tried to answer, but Loki's mouth was heavy and insistent. He gave up trying to speak and instead kissed Loki back, holding him just as tightly as he was being held. It wasn't until he had relaxed subtly, convinced that Loki was not about to flee or attack, that he was allowed space to speak.

"She's safe," Steve said. He was worried about what Loki had done--or who he had hurt--to escape, but having Loki in his arms put his heart into his throat and he couldn't let go. "She's fine."

"Take me to her," Loki said.

"Loki, I--"

Loki shut him up again, and pressed his weight forward until Steve had no choice but to back into the wall. "Take me to her," Loki whispered, kissing Steve's lips, his jaw, his cheeks. "Please, Steven, I have to see her. Please take me to our daughter."

Steve shuddered, but the more Loki tried to convince him, the more wary he was of yet more deception. "I can't," he said, and when Loki still smothered him, he at last took him by the shoulders and forced him back. "I can't! I won't. She's still with the Tesseract."

Loki's face hardened, and as he leaned back, Steve recognized the button-down shirt and ID clipped to it. "What did you do to Mr. Stark?" Steve demanded.

Loki glanced away. "He still lives," he muttered.

"Loki." Steve's hands tightened on Loki's shoulders. "What did you do to him?"

"I did not kill him," Loki insisted. "Though he deserves it. He is well enough." His hands slid to Steve's chest. "Take me to my daughter, and he may stay that way."

Steve slid his arms around Loki's waist again--he figured he had a better chance of keeping Loki secure that way, limiting his range. "Wait," he said, wracking his brain for just those words he had lamented not having. "Just calm down. She's fine--we're taking care of her."

"You must let me take her away from here," said Loki. "Once Thor takes her to Asgard, Odin will--"

"He's not taking her anywhere," Steve interrupted. "He and I have already talked about this. She's going to stay here, on Earth." He swallowed. "With me."

Loki stared at him, his shoulders going slack. His face gradually fell. "You would take her from me?"

Steve clenched his hands against Loki's back. "You have to face responsibility for the things you've done," he said, as calmly as he could manage. "Here, and in Asgard. Thor is taking you back--I can't do anything about that now. All I can do is keep our baby safe. Please, you have to understand."

Loki dug his nails into the collar of Steve's T-shirt. "She is _my_ child. She belongs with _me_."

"But she doesn't belong in a cell." Steve ground his teeth in frustration. "Is that what you want for her? Loki, think about it." He drew Loki in and received no protest. "I'm going to take good care of her," he promised against Loki's neck. "She'll be safe here. And we'll visit you, whenever we can, I promise. Thor promised. Please, just don't..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Don't fight anymore. You can trust me. She's my daughter, too."

Loki was limp against Steve's chest. He was quiet for a long moment, long enough that Steve grew wary. He took in a slow breath. "No. She's not."

Steve stiffened with cold. "What?"

"She's not your child, Steven."

Loki leaned back, and Steve was too stunned by the unexpected declaration stop him. Steve's arms fell from Loki's waist. "What the hell does that mean?" he asked weakly.

"Did you think you were the only man I've taken to my bed since coming here?" Loki said, stepping back. "I suppose a boy like you might."

"No." Steve shook his head. "Don't."

"She's Justin Hammer's child," Loki continued, a cold grin slithering across his mouth. "Ask any of the soldiers you apprehended. They all knew."

Steve quaked against the wall at his back. "Don't," he wheezed. He could barely breathe. "Don't you dare do this to me."

"You have no claim to that child. I am sorry. But you were just so easy to manipulate." Loki tiled his head to the side. "Do not be ashamed, though. Most mortals are."

Steve pushed away from the wall. He snatched Loki by the shirt and threw his weight forward, backing Loki sharply into the opposite wall. "Stop!" he hollered. "You're lying--stop lying to me, damn it!"

Loki tensed against the wall. His grin was wide, almost crazed, but as Steve shoved him into the wall, face flushed and hands shaking, his humor faltered. His lips twitched, and then he drew Steve to them, forcing on him a hard kiss. "Yes," he breathed before Steve could throw him off. "Yes, I'm lying. She's yours." He grasped the back of Steve's neck and kissed him again. "She's yours, and mine, and she perfect. She's ours, Steven."

Steve wilted against Loki's chest. His head was spinning madly--nothing made sense. The shock of having his unearthly daughter taken and returned in such swift fashion left him almost faint. Deprived of his wits, he kissed Loki back. He welcomed the arms circling him, and circled Loki in return. All his heartache hadn't been wasted after all.

"Take me to her," Loki said against Steve's ear. He drew Steve tightly to him, crooking one knee so they rested hip-to-hip against the wall. "Please, Steven. I've barely seen her since she was born." Loki's voice, so low and so pained, dove into the core of his confused lover. "I have not even held her in my arms, not once. Please." He sucked a long, tongue-melting kiss from Steve's mouth. "Please, Steven. Please."

"Okay." Steve panted dizzily, but as soon as he started to lean back he felt unease in his gut again. "Okay, I'll take you."

"Quickly," Loki urged.

His tone flicked a switch between Steve's ears. All at once Steve understood the brief and cruel game that Loki had attempted to play on him, and fresh anger propelled him back into Loki, pinning him to the wall. "No." His face was hot as he braced his heels to prevent Loki from gaining any momentum against him. "No--you're still lying. You're only trying to manipulate me to get to the Tesseract."

Loki was calm for only a second more. He shoved his elbows into the wall and pushed, trying to throw Steve off, but Steve was ready for it, and he knew just how to balance his weight. They grappled roughly, and Loki's nails bit into Steve's scalp and shoulders, but Steve managed to get a hold of his wrist and pin it above his head. The other he trapped between their bodies.

"Stop," Steve ordered, and at length, Loki did. "It's over, Loki. Why can't you just accept that? You've lost!" His temper seared the back of his throat. "What will it take to get through to you? I told you it would end this way, but you didn't listen! So just stop."

Loki sagged against him. "Stop," Steve continued plead, each softer than the last as he hid his pained face in Loki's shoulder. "Please stop. Stop."

Loki's breath emptied against Steve's temple. Gradually his every joint went limp, until he was supported only by Steve and the wall at his back. The strength went out of him just as it had that day in the facility, and though Steve was at first leery of more tricks, he eventually eased as well. When he relaxed his hands, Loki collapsed into his arms with a quiet whimper of pain.

"I am tired," Loki murmured.

"I know." Steve closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. "Can't you make me understand?" he asked. "If this could be the last time I see you like this, I have to know. Why are you doing this?" He embraced Loki almost frantically. "Why is that you can't just _stop_?"

Loki wound his arms around Steve's shoulders. "I don't know," he said quietly.

Steve didn't know why he had expected an answer, or even dared to hope for one. He had Loki in his arms and, just as he had told Jane, he had no idea what to say or do. "Then...just stop," he said helplessly. "I'll help you." He rubbed Loki's back in a way he hoped was encouraging. "I'm going to take you back to the brig. And you're going to wait there, until the bridging device is fully charged and ready to take you back to Asgard."

Loki held his breath, but Steve continued. "And you're going to go back, with Thor. You'll tell Odin what you've done." His throat constricted. "I don't know what will happen after that. But if there's a way I can get to you, I will. All right? Our child and I--Dagny--I'll bring her. She'll always know who you are and how hard you fought for her, and I'll make sure that you see her as often as possible."

Loki's muscles constricted. Steve could feel each one tense as a separate and distinct prelude to Loki's inevitable denial. He didn't know what he had said, but he had set fate into motion. Still, he tried. "All right?" he said again, his voice tinged with desperation. "Tell me you'll wait for us. It's the only way, Loki; you have to see that now. You don't have to fight anymore." 

Loki's fingers curled against Steve's shoulders; his knees bent. Violence brewed in his limbs, but still, Steve tried. "Please, Loki." He clung to Loki even as he, too, tensed in preparation of the incoming fight. "Please. Trust me." He clenched his jaw. "Please--"

Loki twisted, but Steve was ready. As soon as Loki shoved him off, Steve used his greater leverage to spin both of them about and fling Loki into the far wall. The percussion was impressive, but Loki acted as if he felt nothing as he leapt at Steve again. They met hand to hand, pulling and shoving in circles around the small room, until Steve was able to drive his knee into Loki's gut. Loki doubled over but still refused to surrender. Ice formed in his hand, but before he could launch his magic Steve anticipated that too, and twisted Loki's arm back. He shoved Loki chest-first into the wall, and when even _that_ failed to deter him, he spun them around and threw Loki bodily into a corner.

Loki's head struck first, and with a startled moan he collapsed, half draped over one side of the bed. "Get up," Steve said, and when Loki remained motionless, he had no choice but to come closer. "Loki, get up."

He reached down and hooked his hand under Loki's armpit. Even having expected a trap, Loki was too swift--he pushed against the bed for leverage and threw all his weight forward, toppling Steve onto his back. The fall slammed his already bruised skull against hard cabin floor. Steve gasped and tried to push himself up, but then Loki was on top of him, and the weight on his chest stole his breath. Loki's broad hands grabbed him by the hair and banged his head into the floor again.

Stars flashed before his eyes. Still Steve fought, prying at Loki's arms, until one more hit left him bleary-eyed and unable to draw a full breath. He slumped and felt blood trickle through his hair.

Loki's hands went from grasping to soothing. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he bent over Steve, caressing his cheeks. "I am sorry, though you don't believe me. I'm sorry." He trembled as he kissed Steve's forehead. "But I refuse to be a prisoner of Odin's ever again. I would rather lie dead beneath the earth than suffer that fate."

Steve pawed weakly at Loki's shoulders. "Loki..."

"That's why I cannot stop." He pressed a slow, sincere kiss to Steve's slack mouth. "I won't. So please, stay out of my way." When he leaned back, his face melded into Steve's face, his clothes became Steve's clothes. "Good bye, Steven."

Steve reached for him, but then Loki was on his feet and moving to the door. "Wait," he said groggily, but the room was still spinning around him, and he couldn't get any strength into his tingling limbs. "Loki!"

"I am sorry," Loki said again, and the door slid shut behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

Jane found the brig in total confusion. Half a dozen agents including Coulson were gathered around Loki's cell, arguing and muttering. Loki himself was up against the glass, one hand clutching the blanket around his naked waist, the other pounding angrily for attention. When he spotted Jane he waved for her to come closer.

"Foster!" he shouted, his face bizarrely animated. "Foster, come tell them it's me, damn it!"

Jane edged over to Coulson. "Sir, what's going on?"

Coulson heaved a sigh. "He claims he's Stark. I've got agents searching the carrier to see if we can prove otherwise."

"Come _on_ , Coulson, it's me!" Loki insisted. "We met at--at my firefighter charity. You gave me my first lame government cover story. Now seriously, would Loki know that?"

"I don't know," Coulson said, uninterested. "Would Loki know that?"

Loki groaned, and Jane had to admit, his eye-rolling seemed distinctly out of character. "We don't have time for this. My core is running nearly on empty and Loki is out there somewhere. Get me the hell out of here!"

He stopped, coughing violently, and suddenly his entire image changed. Loki snapped out of existence and was replaced with a naked and scowling Tony Stark. His arc reactor was blinking in warning and bruises were darkening around his neck. The surrounding agents lurched back. 

"Told you so," Tony croaked.

Coulson slammed his hand on the emergency siren, and immediately the carrier lit with flashing red. "Let Stark out," he ordered, and then turned his attention to his phone. "Director Fury, we have a breakout."

"Just let me guess," Fury replied sardonically.

"He'll head for the med lab," said Jane, already turning away. "I'll get Steve."

Coulson frowned. "Rogers isn't--"

"We don't have time for that now--Steve's the only one who can handle him!"

Jane dashed out of the brig and made her way swiftly to the upper deck. As soon as she reached the crew quarters, she nearly ran straight into Thor, back in his armor with Mjolnir in his grip. "What's happened?" he asked urgently. "Is it Loki?"

"He got out somehow," said Jane, and she winced at the pained expression that cross Thor's face. "He's already out of the brig--I'm going to get Steve. Between the two of you..."

She trailed off when she spotted Steve's back at the end of the hall. He stood at the hallway junction, glanced left and right, and went right. Frowning, Jane motioned for Thor to follow her.

"Steve!" She stopped just after the turn. "Where are you going?"

Steve turned. His face was uncharacteristically absent of expression, especially considering the state she had left him in. "I'm going to be with my daughter," he said. "If Loki's out, that's where he'll go."

Jane tugged urgently on Thor's arm, and he tensed, interpreting the warning. "You're going the wrong way," she said.

Steve stared at her for a long, hateful moment, and then turned to run. Thor immediately gave chase, so quickly that Jane felt the rush of air from his passing. They vanished around the next corner, but Jane could hear crackling ice followed by Thor's angry bellow. Though she ached to know what was happening, she ran back down the line of cabins to Steve's door and pounded. "Steve! Are you in there?"

She heard nothing from within the room, but her gut told her not to abandon it yet. She yanked her phone out and messaged Tony: _tell coulson to unlock steves door remotely_. The sounds of Thor and Loki fighting their way down the carrier made the wait almost unbearable, but it was only a few seconds later that Steve's door blinked.

Jane thrust the door open, and found Steve struggling weakly to his knees. "Steve!" When she saw blood on the floor, she grabbed a towel from the bathroom and crouched next to him. "Hold on," she said, folding the towel against the back of his head. "Are you all right?"

Steve hooked his fingers over her shoulder. "Help me up."

She did, urging him to sit up against the bedframe. "Let me see," she said, leaning around him. She brushed bloodied hair aside and found a shallow gash. "Doesn't look bad enough to be a fracture."

Steve felt it out for himself. "I'm all right," he said and started to push himself to his feet.

"Steve." Jane stopped before she could tell him to stay put. "Loki was headed toward the bow just now," she said instead as she helped steady him. "Thor's right behind him."

"Stark?" Steve asked, giving the back of his head one more wipe with the towel before heading to the door.

"He's fine. He's with Agent Coulson." Once they had left the room, she gave his hand a squeeze. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just stay out of the way, as much as you can," said Steve. Grim determination twisted his features. "I have to end this."

Jane pointed out the direction the dueling brothers had gone, and Steve ran off. As she stood contemplating what to do, her phone rang. She cast a quick glance at the display and answered. "Stark?"

"Where's Rogers?" he asked immediately.

"Chasing Loki. They're headed for the bow. The path to your rig should be clear if you're going to suit up."

"I can't," said Tony. "The little bastard sucked my reactor almost dry. It's enough for me but not nearly enough for the suit. Sorry Foster, but I'm out on this one."

"There has to be something we can do." Jane squeezed her eyes shut, and the memory of Steve's voice, low and pained next to her, made her stomach boil. "Steve said he doesn't think Loki can be stopped short of killing him. We can't let that happen--we just can't!"

Tony was quiet for a long moment. "We won't," he said. "I've got an idea _._ "

***

Loki appreciated the body he had given Steve Rogers more than ever. Despite all he had exerted in the last twenty-four hours, his muscles were fresh and strong, propelling him swiftly through the carrier's long corridors. He didn't have to expend as much magic on his speed as he usually might. On open ground it wouldn't have been enough, but even Thor had difficulty flying in the narrow metal confines, and was forced to resort to running.

"Loki!" Thor shouted as he gradually gained. "You know you cannot escape me!"

Loki took the corner so sharply that his body slammed into the wall. His shoulder throbbed, but he turned the pain into a spell. When he pushed away, a thousand needles of ice were left in his wake. When Thor took the turn just as swiftly, he hit the wall and cried out.

Petty tricks wouldn't be enough to keep Thor at bay forever. Though Loki hated to do it, he became his Asgardian self again in order to conserve his magic. If only he could reach the Tesseract, he would be invincible. He could feel it pulsing at the edge of his senses, waiting for him. In the other direction.

Loki cursed and turned another corner, which brought him face to face with Clint and Natasha. He skidded to a rough halt and just barely managed to avoid a swift punch. With the two of them reaching for him and Thor catching up, he dove for the nearest door and crashed roughly through it.

He was in a storage room. He raced down the line of shelves and lockers, thinking he might find a weapon, but there was only clothing, medical equipment and diving gear. In desperation, he yanked things off as he passed. As soon as he heard Thor and the others enter the room, a snap of his fingers lit eveything on fire. Within seconds the blaze rippled down the line of fake fabrics and prevented the mortals from pursuing, but Thor did not hesitate. With the help of Mjolnir he dashed above the growing flames and grabbed Loki from behind.

He started to say something, but Loki had no interest in hearing it. Ice daggers formed in Loki's hands and he twisted, trying to impale his brother on them. They were given only moments to whirl in the narrow space, and then the fire reached a line of silver tanks beneath the lockers. Needles jumped and seals whined, and Loki just managed to maneuver himself behind Thor for when they exploded.

Both brothers were thrown into the wall. Though not struck by the brunt of the blast, Loki was rendered breathless when Thor crashed into him. Trapped in close quarters, he clawed and shoved at Thor's armor until he could wriggle free and resume.

"Loki," Thor tried again as he pulled shrapnel from his back. "Stop this madness!"

"You first," Loki taunted.

He passed into the next room, and then another, his adrenaline too thick in his blood to allow for any more complicated emotions. The Tesseract's glow was getting further and further away. When he tried to change course to head toward it, his path was interrupted by agents with guns, and again he retreated into another room. It took his magic to destroy the electronic locks on the nearest door, but once he had, he found it worth the effort.

He was in another storage room, though one more sparsely populated. Only a few objects sat on the heavy shelves, and Loki focused immediately on that most familiar to him. "Fate," he murmured to himself as he crossed the room and closed both hands on the Casket of Eternal Winters.

The Casket's magic was not as old or as impressive as the Tesseract's. It stuck to his skin like a clinging frost, stripping away his Asgardian disguise to reveal his true form. When he took in a deep breath he felt as if icicles were forming in his lungs and brain. He hated it. It may have been Jotunheim's greatest treasure but it was a bitter nuisance to him, and in better circumstances he would have preferred never to rely on it.

Thor was in the doorway. Loki whirled, and despite his irritation with the artifact, he could not help but feel vindicated when it obeyed him. A torrent of sleet and ice washed over the entrance, and though Thor was quick enough to avoid being caught in its wake, his way was sealed. Laughing, Loki turned his prize toward the opposite wall. Once it was slick and frozen, all Loki needed was a tap to send it crashing down.

Loki raced through. Brandishing the Casket before him, he sprinted again through the hallways and did not hesitate for any soldier or agent that crossed his path. Some had reflexes enough that they were able to dodge his onslaught, but Loki noticed at least four trapped and shattered in the ice. He spared no second look as he traced the Tesseract's threads back toward the center of the carrier.

"I'm coming," he whispered. "I'm coming, daughter."

He reached the labs and used the Casket to freeze the connecting hallways before darting inside. When his eyes fell on the cradle at the room's center he could have cried. His magic shrank the Casket into hiding as he stepped forward, breath held the entire way to the cradle's side.

The child stared up at him. As Loki stared back he felt something cold and searing take hold of his heart. His daughter was Jotun. He had known, of course. He had told himself that he was prepared, but staring down at his child, small and ugly, just as he had been, he was overwhelmed. His breath came hot and shallow as he reached into the cradle. A deep and cowardly part of him refused to believe that such a wretched little creature had come from all his effort and anguish.

Loki wrapped the blanket more tightly around her and lifted her up. Her tiny arms waved and her eyes opened a little wider, revealing their pure white iridescence. Her Jotun markings were alive with the Tesseract's light, and when he held her to his chest, he felt the spark in her that would one day become a blaze. She would be powerful and bright, so much more so than either of her fathers. But it was not that promise of godhood that stirred Loki into adoration: it was the gentle frequency of her magic, special to her, same as he had felt when first discovering her inside him. She was inescapably his. She was his hope, his demise, everything he loved and hated in himself. 

"Little Dagny," he murmured, the warmth of her small body easing the icy claws beneath his ribs. Tears welled in his eyes. "Forgive me, that I doubted you for even a moment."

Voices gathered in the surrounding hallways. Loki's heart quickened, and he shifted Dagny to one arm so he could press the release sequence into the Tesseract's receptacle. It popped open with a hiss, and like a flood gate opening, a swarm of joyful magic enveloped him. Loki gasped as it soared over and through him, sinking into his skin as surely as when he had the needle in his belly. He heard its immortal voice in his ears and mind, singing hymns of celebration. When he pulled the cube free, its power became his-- _all_ its power, saturating him more fully than ever before. All his senses glazed over white. He was a god.

When he turned his blank eyes on the far window, he saw Steve watching him.

***

Steve was breathing hard as he pressed both hands to the glass. He had run as fast as he could and still arrived too late. The agents next to him were shooting and chipping through the ice, but Steve knew it was a wasted effort. He leaned forward, watching as Loki was consumed in the power he valued so much. "Please," he whispered hopelessly. "Please, stop."

Their gazes met. Loki's eyes had lost their color and their focus, but Steve felt his piercing stare, and he knew that Loki understood his pleas. They were separated by layers of glass and metal, but Steve was even certain he could hear Loki's heavy breath echoing out of the chamber. In and out he breathed, and with a long sigh black robes billowed down his body tipped with kingly gold. They wove around his limbs as if alive and cocooned the baby in protective layers. Thick tendrils wound up Loki's throat, flattened over his skull and curled over his brow in great, hooked horns.

Loki turned and fled. The Tesseract flared in his palm, and the wall before him exploded outward. Bits of flaming metal and melted glass hung suspended in the air as Loki passed through, waiting for him and the child to be safely out of range before clattering to the lab floor. Steve couldn't breathe, but he followed. He ran down the corridor to the next window just in time to see Loki racing through the lab beyond, its walls bursting out of his way just like the last.

Steve sprinted after. He chased Loki down the carrier toward the stern, catching only glimpses of his beautiful, terrible lover bending matter out of his way through every passed window. He felt weightless and surreal. After racing half the length of the vessel, Loki abruptly jumped, his cloaks propelling him into the air and through the ceiling as easily as the walls.

Steve threw himself on one of the ladder hatches and all but flew onto the deck. As soon as he surfaced in open air he realized that Thor was beside him, though for how long he had been there Steve didn't know. Together they faced Loki beneath a dark canopy of low and roiling clouds.

"Brother!" Thor shouted. He brandished Mjolnir but did not dare any closer. "There is nowhere for you to go!"

"I will not go back!" Loki retorted, backing away from them. The Tesseract gleamed in warning, its magic weaving into a protective chrysalis around the newborn still clutched to Loki's chest. "Leave me be, Thor!"

"You know I cannot!"

Thor took a step closer, and immediately Loki attacked. He snapped the Tesseract like a whip, and from its corners shot tendrils of flowing light. They ripped down the carrier's deck, carving into solid steal, and sprang at Thor. The strands fastened around Thor's limbs, torso, and throat, and with another twist of Loki's wrist Thor was dragged through the worn troughs and into one of SHIELD's waiting jets.

"Who is greater now, brother?" Loki raved, using the Tesseract to sling Thor fiercely into the deck. "Tell me now to know my place! Tell me!"

Steve charged. He had no weapon or even his shield, but those thoughts never entered his mind. When he saw a glimpse of Dagny still shielded against Loki's chest he almost hesitated. "Loki!"

Loki turned only his head. As Steve drew closer Loki's cloak spread away from him, pieces of it shredding away into long, serpent-like shapes. They swarmed over Steve and knocked him to the ground, their rough edges drawing welts wherever his skin was bare. He struggled and swiped, but the fabric had no weight, no way for him to damage them, and even when he backed away they kept at him.

An arrow struck close enough that Steve felt the fletching against his chin. It pierced three of the fabric snakes and pinned them to the deck. Steve dropped to his stomach, and when two more arrows deflected enough of Loki's cloak he was finally able to retreat. Clint and Natasha joined him.

"I hope you have some sort of plan," Natasha said as she handed Steve his shield.

Steve fit the shield to his arm and looked back. "Not in the slightest."

Thor had ripped free of the Tesseract and was circling overhead, his hammer deflecting Loki's every attempt to recapture him. As they distracted each other, SHIELD's agents and soldiers took to the deck, fanning out in ranks behind riot shields and pieces of cargo. Each bore a weapon, from handguns to machine guns to grenade launchers, and Steve went pale. "Wait!"

Loki finally took notice of the gathering crowd, and as soon as he turned his snarl on them, they opened fire. Bullets hailed from all along the deck in an array of lead. As before, not one hit its mark. The Tesseract's threads danced from one to the next like lightning trees, exploding each in mid-air. It created around Loki a rainbow of fire and electricity that crept closer to the firing masses with every volley.

"Hold your fire!" Steve shouted, grabbing up the nearest agent that looked to be command grade. "Hold your fire, for God's sake, he has a child with him!"

The firing slowed, but before stopping entirely a soldier from the far end hurled a grenade directly at Loki's feet. Loki reeled back, and the Tesseract made quick work of disintegrating it, but as it did Steve saw some of its energy ripple back up Loki's arm. Loki's sleeve tore, and one of the blazing markings on his forearm burst like a popping blood vessel. It sprayed molten white for only a few disturbing seconds before sealing over, but Loki's face contorted with pain, and he retreated several more steps.

"Something's wrong," Steve realized aloud. "It's too much for him."

Loki swung the Tesseract again. With a cry of fury he lashed at the ranks of SHIELD agents and soldiers, driving them deeper behind cover. His magic tore chunks out of the deck to be flung, wrapped around jets and crashed them into each other, creating panic and chaos. Despite Steve's efforts the gunfire resumed. When Clint launched an arrow at Loki's left leg, it was vaporized before getting close, but Loki still dropped to one knee and grimaced. More white blood oozed out from under the ragged edge of his cloak.

"Stay away from me," Loki growled, curling his body protectively in on himself and his child. "Stay away!"

Steve braced his shield and ran at him. His presence on the field was enough to get most of the guns to stop firing--he thought he heard Fury's voice ordering them down. "Loki, that's enough!" he called. "You have to stop before that thing kills you!"

Loki lifted his head, and with teeth bared, the horns on his helmet shot out in whipping tendrils. Steve deflected them off his shield, but a second pair branching off from the first snapped around his ankles. His feet were yanked out from under him and he was heaved across the rough deck. The metal chafed his unshielded arm raw and bloodied his knees and scalp. As he rolled to a halt one of his legs slipped off an edge and he jerked, grasping for a handhold for fear of landing in the ocean.

"Steve!"

Steve turned and realized it was not the edge of the carrier he had landed against, but the open cargo bay. In the lab below, Tony and Jane were dashing amongst the equipment, twisting dials and pushing buttons.

"Steve!" Jane shouted again. "Buy us some time!"

Steve groaned as he pushed up on his knees. "We don't have time."

Lightning ripped out of the clouds above. Steve was momentarily blinded by the flash, and when he traced it back to its source, he saw Thor in command of it. His power was met bolt for bolt by the Tesseract, sparks flying in all directions when each collided in a mad and dazzling display. It looked as if the Tesseract had the advantage, but when Steve dropped his gaze he went cold all over again.

Loki was no longer holding his prize. He was still on one knee, both arms devoted to shielding the child as his cloak fanned around him like wings. The Tesseract itself hovered just above him, but its magic continued to shower down, rooting itself in his shoulders and spine. 

SHIELD again opened fire. Their bullets and grenades were just as ineffective, but the exertion of dealing with them showed in Loki's shuddering and bleeding, which gave the illusion that each was a direct hit. The more the Tesseract pulsed, driving closer to Thor while defending its host, the more Loki's skin quivered and split, until light spewed from his eyes and mouth.

Steve dropped his shield into his hand, set his boots in the deck, and heaved. His shield sliced through the onslaught in all directions and slammed into the Tesseract, ripping it away from Loki and tossing both items to the ground. Its tendrils flared in all directions as if in rage, but before it or Loki could attempt to recover their connection, Thor descended in a blur of billowing red. Steve could only watch as a swing of Thor's arm smashed Mjolnir into one corner of the cube.

It cracked. The quiet _clink_ of it breaking echoed above all else, the moment suspended, before everything exploded. The shockwave burst outward and leveled everything in its path, throwing men and women onto the deck, crashing the remaining cargo into each other. Steve had to grip hard at the edge of the cargo hatch to keep from being tossed inside. Energy so cold it burned washed over them, and then it was flowing up, escaping into the sky, splitting the clouds. Its fiery departure was accompanied by a long, shrill wail, like the cries of a mournful ghost.

Everything fell silent, and Steve took several long, shaky breaths before daring to open his eyes again. He stared out over the deck, taking in the dozens of collapsed and struggling figures, Thor among them. The lightning and its enemy had faded, leaving only dull gray sunlight on a dull, shredded deck. As everyone began to stir only one figure remained perfectly motionless: a lump of matte black lying near the port rail.

Steve scraped his knees as he fought himself upright. "Loki...?"

The black twitched. Loki's cloaks no longer held their flowing splendor as he wriggled beneath them in fitful silence. Steve took a few halting steps closer, barely daring to breathe as he waited for another inevitable attack. "Loki."

Loki choked wetly, then moaned, his voice strange and unearthly. The already pained groan rose into a sob, and then Loki was screaming. His helm fell away and Steve could see his face smeared with tears and trickling blue blood. Over and over he cried out like a crazed animal, and when he collapsed to one side a heap of fabric sloughed to the ground, occupied but silent.

Steve's whole body went numb as he stared. Only Loki's voice remained, raving in agony against his weary ears. But then the grief sharpened into wrath, and Steve wrestled himself under control just as a spear formed from thin air in Loki's clenched and bleeding fists.

Thor stumbled to his feet, but by then Loki was already upon him. He jerked with the impact of Loki's spear stabbing bluntly into his gut, and again when he was tossed through the air and pinned to the ground. Loki fell on top of him, his jaws wide and eyes bulging as he continued to howl like a beast. He lifted his hands and the Casket appeared between them, gleaming and vengeful. 

Thor didn't fight him. He gripped the spear in both hands and stared up at Loki helplessly. "Brother..."

Steve didn't realize he had moved until his hands were around Loki's wrists. The Casket's ice slicked his fingers but he paid no attention, using all his remaining strength to heave Loki off and away from his brother. Loki's knees and feet scraped on the deck as he was spun, but it wasn't until they had stopped, and he had no choice but to look up at his attacker, that his voice finally ran dry.

"Stop," Steve said, his fingers tight but swiftly losing feeling as he gripped Loki's wrists. "Stop, Loki. Stop."

Loki's breath heaved and caught. He cowered on his knees while Steve loomed over him, shaking with rage verging on desperation. "I can't," he choked out, his upper lip trembling. But then the strength seemed to go out of him, and he sagged, fresh tears on his cheeks.

Steve shuddered, closing his eyes to keep himself from looking back at the discarded cloth. "I know."

The Casket continued to hum, its icy fingers leaking down onto Steve's wrists. With quiet crackles it spread up his forearms, and when Loki realized, his face twisted. "I can't," he said again, with new meaning. His hands flexed against the Casket, but he could not release it and the ice kept spreading. "I can't stop it."

Steve swallowed but was resolute. "I know," he said, and before the ice could reach his elbows he drew the Casket toward him. The press of its smooth front against his stomach felt like daggers. He gasped, shuddering as its cold spread all through him. It was hauntingly familiar.

"Let go," Loki demanded, but when he leaned back the ice already coating Steve's fingers made a cracking noise, and he stiffened. "Steven, let go!"

"No." Steve grimaced as the ice spread down into his hips, then thighs, then knees. "You can't stop fighting--neither can I." Staring down at Loki's stained face, he felt oddly peaceful, though it might have been the numbness creeping up his spine. "So this is the only way it can end," he said. "It's all I can think of."

"No--stop." Loki writhed, panicked but helpless as he watched Steve gradually be consumed. " _Please_. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Steve managed a smile, but when he tried to say something more--maybe those perfect words he had needed all along--his diaphragm turned to ice and he couldn't draw a breath. His lungs froze, his heart, but whatever fear he felt didn't make it to his face. _It's okay_ , he mouthed, though he didn't think Loki saw let alone understood. _It'll be okay._ Those were his last thoughts before the ice filled him completely.

***

Loki collapsed back on his heels. With his arms stretched over his head he hid his face against his sleeve, waiting for the return of his fury. He felt nothing. He could only sit in shock, shivering silently in what remained of his cloaks. It took all the strength he could muster just to breathe.

His numbness lasted only as long as it took for SHIELD to regroup. The sound of their shuffling boots roused him again to panic. They were coming closer with their guns. Loki gasped. He stretched his fingers, depending on sight rather than feeling to know if they had moved. When he tried to draw out of Steve's grip, another crinkle of the ice forced him still. The agents came closer. 

"Step away from him," said Fury.

Loki squirmed and tried to speak, but his voice broke in pained moans. There was a hole in him where the Tesseract had been, and he had to dig down into the pit of him to find what magic of his own remained. 

A gun hammer cocked back, and it spurred Loki's magic to the forefront. He shrank the Casket back into hiding and then his hands, all the way to the elbow to be sure. He fell away from Steve's frozen body with a whimper, and his hands returned to full size just in time to support him. He crawled away, his only thought to stay away from Steve so that no careless gunshot would shatter him. When he finally had the strength for it, he climbed shakily to his feet and turned to face them. "I--"

Fury squeezed the trigger, and Loki jerked. He didn't hear the gunshot, but he felt its sting in his abdomen. As blood flowed over his fingers, he laughed, short and incredulous. Tears spilled down his cheeks. "I know," he gasped. "I know."

"No!" Thor clawed onto his knees, still gripping the spear in his belly. "Stop!"

Another bullet hit Loki in the chest, and he heard each clink and squeeze of Fury's agents preparing to fire as well. Fear clenched all through him, but before another volley followed the stern of the ship was lit up with a rainbow of brilliant light. It pierced the clouds just as the Tesseract had, and for a moment Loki sobbed with regret. Then he realized what it was.

Fury readied to fire again, but by then Mjolnir was flying at them. The men ducked and dodged, but Loki made no attempt to escape. The hammer caught him in his wounded stomach, flinging him through the air and straight into the glimmering beam. The arms of the Yggdrasil closed in around him, both comforting and terrifying. Loki fought against its pull but there was no escape, and his voice echoed across the deck as he was flung once more into the depths of space.

***

Steve awoke to another unfamiliar ceiling.

He wasn't on the carrier; the ceiling was drywall, with a soft light and turning ceiling fan, and there was no subtle lull of waves beneath him. He wasn't in his room at SHIELD Central. The medical equipment at his bedside indicated an infirmary, but not one he had been in before. Voices chatted in the hall outside his room, but he couldn't identify any voices or make out any words.

The door opened, and a nurse entered. She met his gaze and started. "Oh! You're awake." She tapped something into her phone and then moved to check his vital sign readouts. "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Fine," Steve answered automatically, but when he considered, he wasn't sure. His skin was prickling. It felt too hot and too cold at once, and there was a deep, throbbing pain at the back of his skull. When he stretched his fingers his joints felt stiff, as if too much cartilage had been jammed into them. It was familiar.

Steve jerked upright. "What year is it?"

The nurse flinched back. "Excuse me?"

"What year is it?" Steve demanded. His breath hitched with panic. "How long have I been out? What time is this?"

The door opened again, and for once Steve was relieved to see Director Fury step inside. He hadn't aged a day. "Calm down," he said. "It's only been six hours."

Steve sighed with relief. His brief anxiety had made the pounding in his head worse, and as Fury dismissed the nurse he sagged onto his back again. "Director Fury," he said. "Where are we?"

Fury dragged a chair closer and sat down. "Back at SHIELD Central," he said. "They remodeled the medical wing along with all the other repairs. Sorry for the scare."

"What happened at the carrier?" Steve stomach worked into knots as he gradually remembered. The last thing had been Loki crying at him, and before that the spear spilling Thor's blood, and before that half of Loki's cloak abandoned amidst the rubble--

Fury waited patiently as Steve fought to retain his composure. It took his hand over his mouth and several painful beats of closed eyes and slow breaths before Steve could bring himself to ask, "Where's Loki?"

Fury shook his head. "He's gone."

Steve went limp. "He's dead."

"We don't know," said Fury. "Stark and Foster managed to activate the bridging device and push him through, but it wasn't at full power. We have no idea where he ended up." He shook his head again. "Or if he even survived."

Steve tried to take it in, but it was too much. He had known that Loki would never submit to Asgard, and being faced with a corpse would have been unbearable, but to think of Loki cast to the edge of the universe, alone with all the bitterness and fear that had gotten him there, was even worse. He draped his arm over his eyes as emotion roiled beneath his surface, burning his eyes and throat, pressing down on his chest. Even when plunging himself into what had expected to be his death he had never felt so helpless. At last he felt he understood Loki and what it meant to hate and depend on someone in equal measure, to be utterly inadequate, to be desperate enough to make the wrong choice and have all good intentions squandered. 

"I'm sorry," Fury said quietly.

"Am I going to keep waking up like this?" Steve asked hoarsely. "Until every single thing that matters to me is just _gone_?"

Fury was silent for only a few beats. "Pull yourself together," he said abruptly. The chair scraped as he pushed to his feet. "There's someone you need to meet."

Steve swallowed hard. "Can you give me a few minutes, sir?"

"Nope." Fury tossed a bundle of fresh clothes onto Steve's stomach. "Trust me; you want to be there for this."

Steve didn't think he'd be able to do it, but then Fury's hand snaked under his armpit and he didn't have a choice. He changed clothes and was given only a moment to wash his face before Fury herded him out of the room. Fury offered no more explanation of where they were going or who they were meeting, but Steve was convinced it didn't matter. He was back at the beginning with nothing to show for it except for the hole gouged out of him.

They came to one of the medical labs. Steve glanced inside, and again did his best to rally himself when he saw his full team assembled. They were crowded around a woman seated at the lab's center; she was dressed in an immaculate gown of pearl and gold, and waves of dark blond hair flowed to nearly her waist. As soon as Fury opened the door the woman's voice echoed back to them, humming peacefully in the otherwise silent room. It sounded like a lullaby and it weakened Steve's resolve.

A second voice rose beneath it: a tiny, delighted squeal that sent Steve's heart racing. He shoved past Fury and hurried forward. Everyone made way for him. He came around the unknown woman and stared in shock at the clothed bundle rocking in her arms. 

"How?" Steve breathed, the tears he had been swallowing back finally sliding free as he watched his little girl squirm and reach. Her eyes were not nearly as bright as when she had the Tesseract to nurse at, but they were open and wondrous. She was alive. "I thought she...without the cube..."

"She had a mother's magic on her side," the woman replied with a somber smile. "And some help."

She tugged down the baby's blanket, revealing a small black device nestled against her chest. A tiny spot of blue light gleamed at its center. Steve recognized it immediately.

"All of the Tesseract's energy that Johanna had stockpiled went up in smoke when she did," said Tony, stepping closer. "Except for this battery." His voice lowered in what might have been respect. "I found it on Hammer. It's not much, but I managed to rig up a regulator for it, so that she won't go through it too fast. It ought to be enough to take care of her until we can work out something better."

Steve briefly but firmly clasped Tony's hand. He needed several tries before he was able to draw enough breath to ask the woman "Who are you?"

Thor was seated next to her. He looked nearly as haggard as Steve himself, dressed in modern clothing with bandages bulging subtly beneath his shirt. "This is my mother, Frigga," he introduced. "Wife of Odin Allfather and queen of Asgard."

"You must be this child's father," said Frigga gently.

She offered the child up, and though Steve was still half in shock, he accepted. He gathered his daughter into his arms, marveling all over again at how impossibly fragile she felt. The warmth of her little body seeped into him and left him breathless. His peers must have seen, because then Clint nudged a stool behind him, and Tony and Jane took his shoulders to steer him safely onto it.

"I don't understand," Steve said. Maybe it was because of spending too much time in Loki's company, but he couldn't help his suspicion. "Why would you come all this way to save a traitor's baby?"

Thor tensed defensively, but Frigga calmed him with a squeeze to his hand. She faced Steve with sincerity. "Because she is my granddaughter."

She spoke so plainly, with so much care and so little ceremony, that Steve felt guilty for doubting. "Thank you," he said, emotion making his voice weak again. He smiled down at the bundle in his arms and couldn't help the new tears. "All of you--thank you." He took in a deep breath. "But what about Loki?"

Thor lowered his eyes, and Frigga drew his hand closer so she could clasp it in both of hers. "He passed through the Bifrost," she said. "But he did not make it to Asgard. Good Heimdall still searches for him, and my husband has sent his finest into the realms to spread the news that all should be vigilant." She sighed. "But Loki's sorcery has hidden him very well before. I fear he will not be discovered unless he wishes to be."

She did not mention the other possibility. Steve wasn't about to do it for her, and as he watched Dagny's fingers flex against his, he became certain that it wasn't worth considering at all. "He's alive," he said. "And when he's able, he'll come back. For her."

"He does not even know the child lives," murmured Thor.

"It doesn't matter." Steve nudged her little cheeks and smiled when she smiled. "Either he'll find out and come for her, or he'll come to get his revenge. Either way, as long as he's alive, he'll come back." He closed his eyes and felt brewing in him a weary but hopeful resignation. "Because he can't stop, and neither can I. And maybe next time I'll be ready for him."

He looked to his surrounding Avengers. "We all will. There's a way through to him and I'll find it."

"And in the meantime?" Jane prodded gently.

"In the meantime..." Steve chuckled nervously. "I guess I'll be a dad."

Frigga smiled warmly at him. "And what is the child's name?"

"Dagny," he said. "That's what Loki wanted to name her." He held her closer. "Dagny Rogers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! All comments are welcome and appreciated.
> 
> EDIT: Thank you all for your reviews and kind words. I'm sorry I haven't responded to them individually but I appreciate every one so much.


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